The Mission
by S-Jay494
Summary: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: THE MISSION

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Hurt/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Just scribbling/typing some DA fic to stave off the writer's block for my next actual novel (don't tell my editors ). I was completely inspired to jump back into fanfic after reading other DA stories. I loved the show and sorely miss the characters, so here goes. Not entirely sure where this is going, but I do love suggestions from readers so post 'em if you got 'em. [Updated to fix the worst of the typos]

**# # # #**

**Terminal City: Six months after the siege began**

"Max?" Mole growled around the wet stump of the cigar clenched in his teeth. "Ralph reported in. They got the medical supplies. They're taking them in through the north tunnel."

"Right," she nodded and ground the heels of her hands into her eyes. Shark DNA or not, a few minutes of sleep each week was still necessary; it just hadn't happened this week.

She was hoping to crash on the lumpy sofa in the ramshackle room that had become her office. The latest supply run was the biggest sortie on the agenda for the week. Mole's report confirmed all went well. No mention of casualties meant a lot less chaos to follow—assuming none of the sterile supplies got dumped in the drink as the team humped the boxes through the tunnels that were usually flooded with rancid rain water filing through a disbursement system teeming with toxins that kept the Ordinaries a safe distance from the transgenic/transhuman outpost.

They were mostly at a détente with the authorities. News reports still insinuated that alleged spikes in crime or the occasional violent protest in Seattle was the work of the Manticore alumni, but (often through the Eyes Only InformantNet) the truth usually proved the allegations false. Usually.

They were not saints, Max knew. They did their fair share of stealing and could use force to get what they needed. They were not savages; they were survivalists. They only did what they needed to do in order to see another day and see that their fellow genetically enhanced brethren could do the same.

Most of them, anyway.

There was always an exception to that rule and more often than not that exception had but one name attached: Alec.

The former assassin, former cage-fighting champion, former slacker of a bike messenger had remained a hustler. Not that Max particularly minded all the time. His skills at finding the un-findable, brokering the seemingly impossible deal and (yes, sad yet sinfully necessary) stealthy skills at locating and heisting high-end objects to fence so they could buy the hard to get items like medicines were admirable. To a point. That his living quarters in Building Four was the only one with a large, plasma screen TV, comfy leather furniture, reliably hot water and a refrigerator that nearly always contained (in addition to the simple rations and food stores allotted to all residents of the TC) a cold six-pack, fresh apples and even ice cream, was something she had words with him over more than once. Each time, he offered her his trademark so-practiced hurt and shocked look that never convinced her of his innocence and always left her wanting to smack the back of his head a little harder.

"Max, you really think I'm running some scam on the side?" he would gasp. "I got what you asked. I didn't sell any of it on the way back. I didn't take a cut at the expense of everyone here."

"Then explain how you've got the makings of a party in your fridge," she countered.

He would shrug, unconcerned, and answer her. His words she knew to be the truth but they still lacked in helpful details.

"I know a guy," Alec would say.

But he hadn't said that in a while. Not to her anyway. Not to anyone in TC, in fact.

Alec was gone.

**# # # #**

**Four Months Earlier...**

A few weeks after the standoff at Jam Pony, the Eyes Only InformantNet hit on a cache of research documents in an underground bunker discovered 50 miles north of Seattle. Included in the sea of nearly incomprehensible files was a listing of scientists from around the world who had been under contract with Manticore. It was unlikely most ever knew who was employing them or what precisely their research would be used for, but their guilt was not the issue. The issue was what they knew and whether they were still alive. Logan Cale, the street name and face of the secretive Eyes Only, knew better than to get his hopes up, but he felt at first that there was real promise in three of the leads.

He presented his report to Max over the satellite feed a few days after he received the files. She was insanely busy setting up the compound that was turning into the only refuge for the former Manticore soldiers. He hated cutting into their survival preparations with something so seemingly insignificant, but this was something they both wanted and (he convinced himself) something that might help her understand what the mysterious Sandeman had done to her that was now spawning cryptic tattoos on her body. Learning that might help them neutralize Ames White and the Familiars from the fanatical breeding cult currently seeking to eradicate Max and her troops from the planet.

"There's three of them that shouldn't be ignored," Logan reported over the feed that day. "Brezhinski, O'Connell and Meinke. O'Connell and Meinke should be easy to get to-they're both in North America. One is in Southern California and the other is in Toronto."

"Are they protected?" Max asked. The last thing she wanted to do was send her people out on a dangerous mission just so she could let her boyfriend cop a feel once the seige ended.

"That's the best part," Logan said without being able to hide his grin. "They're just regular doctors now. They're not being watched as far as I can tell. They're not in any protective custody. One works as a medic in a factory and the other is an ER doctor. Looks like they both fell on hard times in the last few years. That alone tells me Manticore forgot about them so they should be easy to contact."

"Or they're nobodies and that's why Mommy Dearest didn't use the coat hanger on them," said an expected voice behind Max.

She turned to see Alec standing in the room, hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

"You don't knock?" she asked.

"Not usually, no," he shook his head confidently then flashed his naughty, impish grin at her to let her know he wasn't sorry for his intrusion. "What's going on?"

Logan bristled at that. Getting Max to have a private conversation with him was hard enough. She was devoting all of her time to the TC and getting it up and running to meet her people's needs. Taking five minutes to chat with him was asking a lot. Alec interrupting, apparently for his own childish pleasure, did not sit well with the cyber-journalist.

It wasn't that he was jealous of Alec precisely. He knew now that Max had lied about a relationship with him in order to push Logan away. She had done that to protect him and give him a chance to move on. It hurt him when he saw the two outside her apartment that morning. Logan's relationship with Max was always complicated as there were so many things working against them, then Alec arrived and everything got worse. In fact, Logan was certain there was something in the guy's DNA cocktail that required him to mess up everything he came into contact with. Knowing Alec could see Max anytime he liked, which did seem to be rather often in Logan's experience, bothered the crusading journalist. The guy was a loner and a scam artist. He was a self-preservationist and an egomaniacal, happy-go-lucky sociopath. What he was doing staying with the people at TC was a mystery to Logan. Alec's motives, at all times in Logan's opinion, were suspect.

Not that he didn't like the guy. On some level, it was hard not to admire a few things about him. He was creative when it came to his schemes, and he was quick on his feet. Being an alpha transgenic, bravery was part of the standard package, but he was not the go in guns blazing type. He was the sort who would willingly walk into a guns-drawn standoff and ask (quite calmly while fighting the hints of a confident smirk): "Is there a problem here? Everyone sees a tad upset."

Still, he looked out for number one first and foremost. Sure, he did stick up for his fellow Manticore creations, and he was (relatively) loyal to Max. Overcoming more than two decades of indoctrination and training to be a covert operative with hidden agendas and stone-cold assassin's skills was not going to be undone by a rallying speech from Max.

"Logan has a lead on some Manticore doctors who might be able to...," she began to explain but stopped as Alec cut her off.

"Take the whammy off you so you two can...," he raised his fist and pumped it forward a few times then nodded his understanding. "Very nice. Glad that's on our priority list still. Um, while you're working on curing Logan's libido issue, I'm going to take Bullet on a run for supplies."

"Wait," Max said, turning her attention away from the monitor. "We just did a run yesterday. What did we miss?"

"The new walk-ins who showed up this hour," Alec said matter-of-factly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to gesture to the complex outside her door.

"How many?" she asked.

"Three girls, all trailing toddlers in need of something other than mildly radioactive water to drink," he replied.

"Six more people?" Max repeated. "The kids, they're all...?"

"Final exams from their breeding partners, yeah," Alec nodded as he grinned and tossed her a lecherous wink. "Good thing you and I didn't follow those orders, huh? You'd be about ready to pop by now, too."

He cocked his head to the side and a sly grin played on his lips. What his precise thoughts were she did not know and did not care to know. Instead, Max glared at him. The firm line of her mouth was sufficient reprimand to make him throw up his hands in temporary surrender. The glare just encouraged him to continue smirking as he sauntered out the door and yelled for his one-man backup to assemble.

Max shook her head, sighed and turned back to the monitor with a half-guilty, half- apologizing look.

"Sorry," she said. "Alec is..."

"There, yeah," Logan grimaced. "I know."

Max heard the resentment in his tone and tried to ignore it. There was always a little tension between Alec and Logan. Alec did not understand Logan's big-picture altruism. Logan thought Alec an amoral jerk a few burned brain cells shy of being a psychopath (something she suspected Alec would take as a compliment); to his credit, Logan was usually glad Alec was on their side. He just envied his proximity to Max. Logan's recent sour attitude to Max's fellow transgenic was mostly her fault. Her lie about a relationship with Alec hurt Logan deeply. Rather than plow through that minefield again, she trudged on with the conversation at hand.

"So, you think these doctors have some answers?" she asked almost listlessly. There was nearly no point in getting her hopes up about any of it-a cure for her and Logan or the mystery of Sandeman's puzzle in her DNA.

"I think we'd be fools not to find out," Logan said cautiously. "Of course, we'll need some..."

He did not get to finish what they needed because there was noise and another voice behind Max, stealing her attention.

"Max?" Gem questioned, grave concern filled her eyes.

She entered the room pressing Eve, her infant daughter into her shoulder while patting the fussy baby's back. The child, born during the standoff at Jam Pony and altercation with White's strike force of Familiars, was growing fast in Max's estimation. She was fortunate, no barcode had yet appeared on the child's neck. The reason for this was still unknown. It was both a sign of worry and relief to the child's mother. The relief was that her baby might one day live free of the prejudice and fear the transgenics faced currently; the fear was that she might not have the transgenic makeup, thus leaving her vulnerable to the toxins that kept the Ordinaries outside the perimeter but that the transgenics and transhumans were immune to. So far, the child was not fairing badly, but the concern was etched in Gem's face every time Max saw her.

"Is Eve okay?" Max asked instantly.

"Just fed her," Gem said. "She's gassy and won't give it up."

"Oh," Max shrugged, knowing next to nothing about babies other than there were a lot more in TC that day than when they started.

Controlling the population was yet another issue she was tackling. Not surprisingly, Alec volunteered for that assignment: sex control. He suggested offering sex passes (complete with condoms) to those who did the best work (judged by him no doubt) and thus stem the tide of any sudden baby boom caused by transgenic females in heat being so close to, as he put it, a ready supply of virile and willing transgenic males with nothing productive to do each evening except pace, check ordinance or screw. As expected, he managed to look shocked when his offer to dole out sex passes (something Max would never allow, but was sure if she did, he would find a way to keep a ready supply of approved slips for himself either for personal use or to sell on his personal blackmarket) was declined.

"What's up?" Max asked, shaking memories of that loud and (at the end physical) refusal/altercation with Alec aside.

"About Alec," she said. Max sighed and hung her head wondering what he had done now, "did you okay him to bogart a herd of goats?"

"A herd of...?" she stopped short. "I didn't okay him to do anything."

She replayed their brief discussion in her head. He said supplies. He said he and Bullet were making a supply run and then linked the need to several newly arrived toddlers who would do better on milk than water. The hijacking livestock part of the plan was not mentioned. Max never even approved the artfully-crafted innocuous mission nor had he asked for such approval. Still, the rules were that no one left without express consent from command. That Alec considered himself part of command was expected; that Max hadn't automatically realized he was only giving lip service to her rules was an error on her part and evidence of how chaotic things were at the TC. She ground her teeth together and stood with an explosive sigh.

"Where is he?" she demanded.

"He and Bullet were moving fast," Gem replied as the infant continued to resist the efforts to burp it. "Probably outside the perimeter by now."

Max turned back to the screen with a suffering look.

"I have to go," she told Logan. "We'll talk later."

"Yeah," he said, trying to make it easier on her. "I still have a few things to look into; you go deal with... goats."

The connection terminated. In a sector across the city, Logan stared at the blank screen and sighed regretfully then trudged over to the battered couch. He wanted to be with her, to help her, but the virus kept them apart in many ways. She feared accidental exposure and kept her distance. He did not want to be an impediment to her taking command of the troops, who were more like refugees at this point. Not that he could help anyway. The toxic dump they were calling home would kill him as much as the virus would, only at a slower pace. Then there was the other problem: Her wayward shepherd and resident trouble-finder.

It frustrated Logan to watch Alec and his schemes and plans. The guy had scientifically assigned talents and skills. His choices in how to best employ them, however, were often flawed. He had a heart, Logan supposed, somewhere inside all that bluster, muscle, and hustling, but he was an opportunist. Again, something that Logan suspected was partly the result of engineering. Who knew precisely what was in Alec's cocktail. Certainly there was feline (and Logan suspect a good dash of a jackass strain), but there was also something reptilian—not in the way of Mole or the other transhumans; probably something more along the lines of a chameleon. Alec could blend himself to many situations and fit in, hiding in plain sight. That was his greatest weapon in Logan's estimation and his greatest detriment. He could con people easily with his charm, his smile and his looks. More often than not, he used those gifts for one-night stands with women whose names he only recalled due to his enhanced memory capabilities rather than any interest in remembering them at all.

Still, Logan thought as he eased out of his exo-skeleton and relaxed more completely, Alec was a good soldier. He knew how to take action. He wasn't easily intimidated or stymied by doubts. When he had an objective, he focused on the mission and executed it with precision. He was useful and, much as it pained Logan to admit it, Max needed him. She had the skills of a soldier, but her training ended when she was 12. Alec had a decade of training and battle experience that would be invaluable to her now, if he would stick around and be a team player. So many of the other transgenics who escaped when Max burned the Manticore facility to the ground did not adapt to freedom. Alec, as usual, was an exception. He blended in quickly. Again, the chameleon.

Logan did not like that Alec had such easy access to Max. He prodded and teased and taunted her in a way that was suspect. The man flirted with nearly any woman he met, so it wasn't so much that Logan felt threatened. It was that he was jealous. He doubted Alec capable of caring for Max in the way he cared for her-he loved her for God's sake! Still, Alec was an alpha. He was competitive and those traits in his DNA kicked in when the right triggers were in place. Max had told Logan as much when her brother Zac was last in town. It was Alec who suggested Max's brother/unit leader had more than brotherly feelings toward her. Why Alec picked up on those was a mystery. Original Cindy said he appeared hurt when Max rebuffed his concern. Logan thought, at the time, that it was merely posturing. Zac was an alpha in the classic sense-one that Max recognized as one for he was her unit's leader before they escaped. Alec was a different sort of alpha. He was the loner. He was not a team leader; he was his own kamikaze squadron. He'd also been hauled clear off his feet by the throat by Zac and nearly had his windpipe crushed like a beer can in the process. Alec was strong, no doubt, but for sheer, brute, physical force, he (like most other transgenics) was not match of the behemoth Zac. Logan thought it must have hurt the guy's pride a bit, especially as he got tossed around like a child's toy in front of Max by the guy.

Max.

It came back to her too often for Logan's liking. She was unconquerable territory and that was like a flame drawing in a moth to someone with an ego like Alec's. She was a challenge for him. That's why he kept coming back. Logan doubted there was any newfound conscience or sense of purpose in the conniving commando. Talking to Max was not something he could do much lately, but he wanted to tell her that he was sorry he ever jumped to the conclusion that she had hooked up with Alec. He was insecure about how they were drifting apart and, having just recovered from another accidental contact with Max, he was surprised when she didn't visit him in the hospital. Joshua's transfusion helped, but what he wanted most was to see her, to tell her he didn't blame her. Instead, he saw her, leaving her apartment early in the morning with Alec's arm around her. He thought for a moment that there was something intense and intimate about their interaction that morning, as if something had changed. He felt silly now. The more rational and likely explanation was that Alec was trying to con her, hit her up for a loan or pawn off a delivery on her. That his arm was around her and she didn't seem to be recoiling from it was harder to explain, but Logan now wasn't sure what he really saw. He was still recovering and he did not have a transgenic memory.

**# # # # **

"Goats?" Max bellowed as three raced around the warehouse adjacent to the building where dozen transgens and transhumans had taken up residence. "Why are there goats here, Alec?"

"Because putting them in your office would be distracting and completely unnecessary," Alec answered.

Bullet, standing at attention beside him, broke his composure briefly and chuckled. This told Max three things. One, the X-6 she and Alec helped rescue from White was finally adjusting to life as not exactly a soldier. Two, Alec's cult of personality likely had a new follower; and three, he had openly considered stashing to goats in her office for a laugh. Why he changed his mind wasn't relevant at the moment. She was just glad he had done so.

"Alec, goats?" she asked again.

"The milk, Ma'am… I mean, Max," Bullet responded. "They're smaller than a cow and they'll eat anything so feeding them helps take care of the garbage problem a bit."

Alec snapped his fingers, pointed at Bullet and nodded as if this was precisely the answer he would have given. Max did not look satisfied.

"The children," Bullet continued, his shoulders still at attention, but his words were slightly less barked than if he was answering a commanding officer while in ranks. "They need something other than water. We can milk the goats. As long as we filter their water and keep them in this quadrant, they should live for a while."

"You're on dairy duty," Max said to Alec with a cold stare. "Next time, ask before you start a farm."

She turned to leave but was caught by the arm.

"I told you what I was doing," he said and felt the full force of her displeased stare. "In a manner of speaking. I said we needed milk. I said I was making a supply run with Bullet. I gave you a briefing, a high level briefing, but that's one of the things about command you need to learn, Maxie. You don't get to have all the details all the time. You need to trust your ranks. They take care of the heavy lifting and you make the big strategic decisions. You needed to know we had new people, they had a need, and we were sending a team to get the supplies. What those supplies were precisely and how we were getting them is not a detail that needs to cloud the thoughts of our fearless leader."

He pet her hair softly, almost patronizingly, as he spoke the last sentence. Her hand flew through the air and smacked the back of his head a millisecond after he stopped stroking her locks.

"There is a protocol in place," she said. "You get permission for a mission before undertaking it. You don't brief me on what you are going to do. You request and are given permission for what you are allowed to do."

"Ah, feels a little too restrictive for me," Alec said shaking his head. "I need a little more freedom than that."

"Freedom?" she repeated and pointed at Bullet and the goats. "Well, there's your team for now. Feel free to offer them as many or as few restrictions as you can handle. You have this whole warehouse to yourself."

"I don't do goats," he shook his head.

"Who is going to care for them then?" she asked and watched as he turned his head dramatically toward the younger transgenic.

"I know goats, Max," Bullet smiled and held up his hand.

Alec nodded proudly and threw an arm around her shoulders.

"He knows goats," he smiled.

Max shirked off his then scoffed and walked away. Alec waved a hand at Bullet, putting him in command of the four-legged charges, then hurried to catch up with Max.

"It's a good idea," he explained. "It'll help the kids and will help our already taxed food supply a bit. Look, we were talking and it seemed like a quick, if possibly temporary, solution. The kid knew where there were goats so… I went with it. No danger. No problems. No one even saw us."

She sighed with resignation as she kept her arms folded, plodding along back to command central. He was right, which was something that jabbed at her, and he wasn't goading her about it, which struck her as odd. It felt almost… responsible. That he had broken the rules to do it was minor in the grand scheme of Alec generated chaos. Her thoughts were muddle on this and she wasn't sure if that was entirely Alec's fault.

Things had changed between them, or within her at least, the night she sprung him from jail where he was being held on murder charges. She had believed he did it when she first heard of the arrest. Alec killed someone? Sure. Not hard to imagine. Brutally murdered them? Definitely possible. The skill and strength were there. The mental state to pull it off? Without a doubt; the guy was a trained, stone-cold assassin with more than a few notches in his belt.

Her rage was boiling over into near delight at the thought of White's team coming for him. Then Alec was brought into the room to see her and he pleaded with her to believe him. He genuinely could not understand why she didn't believe him. It was as if he was shocked she could think him so low and depraved. He was hurt by her certainty that he was guilty. It was when she heard the details of the crime that the knot in her chest turned from a ball of angry fire into an icy knife slicing into her soul. Alec was honestly revolted as he told her about the teeth ripped from the head of the victim and adamant he could never do such a thing.

That was the answer, and it sprung the guilt trapped in her heart. Ben. The culprit was Ben, not the fast-talking, wise-cracking, pain in the ass who looked so much like him.

It was hard to think of Ben as the cold-blooded killer. She knew he was. He had admitted it to her and told her the reason why. His poor, tortured mind twisted in pain and anguish. She had put him down, killed him with her own hands, to save him and end his misery. In her memory, Ben was always strong and capable. He was the one who gave her hope when they lived in that prison camp, training to become deadly weapons. That she was the one who delivered his fatal blow was hard. Having to look into his face and hear his voice everyday from Alec was a form of torture; it was her punishment. Only, she wasn't the only one pained by it. She took out her guilt and her anger on Alec for the simple reason that she could. He was there. Hurting him, pushing him away, battling with him, made the pain easier to ignore. He wasn't Ben. He was nothing like Ben. He was… better.

When forced to state cold, hard facts, she had to admit Alec was a better man than Ben, if only because he wasn't a serial killer. He was not saint, either, but who was? Alec had a good side to him. She had seen it and felt it, despite her reluctance to admit those observations. Alec, the younger and brasher of the twins, was capable of something other than his trademark, brazen self-preservation. She saw the first hints of it when he chose not to kill her to save his own life when Ames White placed a booby trap in his head. It was hardly a magnanimous gesture, but it was a sign, a first spark, of a soul capable of more than selfishness. He may have killed Joshua that night if the transhuman had sported a barcode, but much of that was fear driven behavior. Still, she held the possibility of it against him for a long time. Joshua didn't, of course. Alec apologized and Joshua felt certain he meant it. Of course, the recently freed soldier who jumped them that night wasn't really Alec yet. He was still X5-494. That man and the one who raised his hand to follow her when she assembled their group after the Jam Pony standoff were not really the same. X5-494 was gone. He had changed, somewhat. He had become Alec.

Not that the man followed orders well. He still shuffled off assignments on whoever he could whenever it pleased him. He jockeyed himself into the best position possible when it came to living quarters and amenities. She knew he was still running a betting pool of some sort and his gambling winnings were still spent on any number of unsavory pastimes to include illegal contraband and strippers. If she heard in the near future that he was opening a secret nightclub at TC, she would not be the least bit surprised. She only hoped that he would have the good sense not to run guns, drugs and hookers out of it at the same time; although, that was a restriction he would surely argue about as well. Reprobate was often a fair assessment of his character.

That was why it struck her as odd that he followed her back to her office with the suggestion that she summon Logan on the satellite feed.

"You want to what?" she asked him again.

"I want to hear more about these doctors he tracked down," Alec replied. "If he's onto something, we need to check it out. Look, we don't know everything about who and what we are—you least of all. Rule one of any mission: gather the intel. Well," he threw his arms wide to gesture to the whole complex, "this is a pretty far-sweeping mission we have here. Knowing more can only help us in the long run, right? Maybe we can learn something that will help us with White."

"You know that the point behind any mission to talk to these guys is…," Max began and looked at him with guilt-riddled eyes.

"Yeah, a heat-seeking injection to neutralize that virus," he nodded. "Bonus for us. You get your rocks off with lover boy and maybe you stop riding the rest of us so hard."

She looked at him, feeling worse still. She was tough on everyone in TC; the times needed it, but there was no one she was tougher on than Alec. He withstood her tirades well, knowing (she suspected) that he often deserved them. He would be flip and glib with her in front of those she trusted most. He never put her on the spot when the majority of the troops were in the area. He was, she reluctantly admitted, her second-in-command, although Mole was vying for that post as well. Between the two, she did trust Alec more, if only because she knew his tactics.

They entered her office but she did not automatically turn on the laptop to summon Logan.

"Logan wants to go after the doctors, to talk to them, to see what they know and see they can kill this virus," she said, dropping wearily into her chair.

"And anything else they know," Alec nodded. "Win, win, Maxie."

"No," she said. "We can't send any of our people out there right now. Hell, we can barely do covert runs for food. I'm not risking any of their lives just so…"

"See who's willing to volunteer," he suggested, sitting on the edge of her desk. "You'll get a handful. Guarantee it."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously. "What are you planning?"

"I'm hurt," he said, pressing his palm into his chest and gaping at her. Then he grinned quickly and shrugged. "Actually, I expected that. Truth: Nothing. I just can't stomach the thought of living in this hell hole for the next few weeks or months and only being allowed outside the wire at night for surgically planned runs. Feels too much like being back at home-crap-home Manticore. Seriously, Max, I'll lose my friggin' mind if I have to stay here without any shore leave. "

"Are you saying that because I vetoed your request to be the TC pimp?" she asked.

"Nah," he shook his head. "Sex police isn't my thing, really. I mean, who am I to shatter hopes and dreams of trans on trans lovemaking in the heart of the…"

"Shut up," she snapped and held up her hands. "So, you only want to look into this thing for Logan because you need to roam?"

"No," he said. "We all need answers and this is an opportunity to maybe get some. The chance that, if all goes well, you can finally get some too is merely a bonus that should indebt you to me for, oh, let's say, a year or two—depending on whether Logan makes your toes curl, I guess."

She glared at him. He was rude, crude and incorrigible. He was also, possibly, one of her few hopes, which in itself, made her feel a little more hopeless. That Alec might be her last chance to be with Logan seemed wrong deep in her gut, but she wasn't sure why. He certainly was a capable operative when his head was in the mission. He was a good fighter and a quick thinker. He did (at least lately) follow through when he said he would (assuming there were no insurmountable objects in the way, like getting locked up for murder based on mistaken identity).

"You know we have to check it out," Alec cajoled her. "One way or another, someone needs to talk to those doctors."

She nodded and turned on her computer. It took several moments for the connection to establish. When it did, Logan was seated in front of his screen, smiling eagerly at her. He appeared delighted at her getting back to him so quickly. He had expected the interval to be days rather than a few hours. His joy was evident in his face and his voice.

"Wow, two chats in one day," Logan beamed. "I'm honored."

"You should be," Alec said, standing in front of the desk so he was not seen on screen but could easily be heard. "We're really a sought after bunch."

Logan's face faltered for a moment at the sound of the trangenic's voice. Alec was there. Naturally. Max made the call, but her problem child was in the room preventing the adults from having a real discussion. Logan tried to keep his features frozen in a composed expression.

"Alec," he said through a plastered on smile. "How are the goats?"

"Surprisingly willing to be co-conspirators," he said, finally leaning on the desk and craning his neck so he could see the monitor and be seen by the camera. "You should get one. Joshua said something about giving them obedience lessons. Could be the new hot thing."

"I'll keep that in mind," Logan said. "So, what's up?"

Max figured she had let the two of them dance around each other long enough. She cleared her throat and looked straight into the camera.

"What can you send us about those doctors?" she asked.

Logan offered a litany of details and began typing, firing off an encrypted email that contained various attachments of documents from the files his network brought to him. They discussed the two North American doctors at length. After some checking, Logan had people willing to reach out to the one in Toronto and send him their findings. Max agreed, with pangs of worry and buckets of reservations, that she could seek a volunteer or two from her ranks to pay a visit to the one in California.

"What about number three?" Alec asked. Logan stared into the camera with interest. "I was eavesdropping on your earlier conversation. You said a third name. Brezhinski. Where is he?"

"She," Logan corrected him. "Dr. Svetlana Brezhenski. She's a little further. I was actually checking with folks on her when you called. That one's probably out of reach."

"Dead?" Max asked. It seemed the likely answer. Figures, she thought, she was probably the one with the most useful information.

"I'm not sure," Logan replied. "Her last known address is in Siberia."

"I'm guessing it's too much to hope that there's a Siberia in Southern Florida," Alec wondered then grimaced as Logan shook his head.

"Middle of Russia," he said.

"Ah, Siberia," Alec sighed. "_Skol'ko let, skol'ko zim_."

"Which is what?" Max asked. "Hey, sweetie, how much for an hour?"

"Close," Alec nodded and smiled wistfully. "It means: How long has it been? Or how many summers, how many winters? Which to them is the same thing."

"And you just thought you'd drop that on us because…?" Logan began.

"Because saying _moio sudno na vozdušnoy poduške polno ugrey_, while fun, just isn't appropriate in this circumstance," Alec shrugged then translated. "It means my hover craft is full of eels. You know, you'd be surprised how often you have to say that in some locales."

"Bottom line, you speak Russian?" Logan ventured suspiciously.

"_Da_," he nodded then offered a little more insight. "When you need to pass as a native, it helps to know the language, you know?"

"You did an Op in Russia?" Logan asked.

"Several," he replied. "Where in Siberia? It's a big place. This lady doc might be hard to find. Brezhinski isn't exactly a unique name."

"No, it's not, but I have a lead," Logan replied. "It'll take at least a few days to see if it pans out."

"You have an Eyes Only contact in Russia?" Max asked, impressed at the width and breadth of his network.

"Sort of," he said. "It's a loose affiliation. We're not the only ones fighting corruption. The distance makes it more difficult to make contact, but I may have someone. I haven't talked to her in a long time, but her family was good friends with my parents. Business associates. I haven't talked to her in a long time, but we did bat some email a few years back so I'm not completely without hope."

"Transport?" Alec asked, not caring much about Logan's network of informants enough to want details at this stage.

"Well, that's obviously going to end this little excursion," Max sighed and slouched in her chair. If the contact was still talking to Logan and if she could find the doctor, and if the doctor was still alive there was still the matter of an ocean and thousands of miles to cover in a nation as strapped for gas and supplies as the ailing U.S. was.

"Shipping freighter, cargo hold," Alec said with a casual shrug. "One puts into port every few weeks. Fake papers shouldn't be any trouble; throw a chunk of greenbacks in my pocket to grease any reluctant wheels and it's a go. Then, a week or two on the water and feet dry. Ruck in-country, on foot if necessary, but probably just steal whatever auto I can find. Not a bad time of year to cross the terrain. Another month or two and it would be hellish. You get me the approximate coordinates and I'll find your doctor."

"You're not going," Max said automatically.

"Why not?" Logan and Alec asked at the same time. She looked from the monitor to the operative now perching on the corner of her desk.

"Because… because, it's insane," she said. "The whole world is freaking about transgenics; I'm not sending my guy to Siberia and hope the Russians are somehow more civilized and understanding."

Logan scowled at the "my guy" pronouncement, but let it slide. She was the commanding officer. All her brethren were her guys. That Alec was willing to take off for another country, another continent, to help was as suspicious as it was pleasing to Logan. He wasn't sure he could or would trust Alec on his own. The offer might be a ploy to simply get a new identity. Max quickly tabled the discussion until Logan could get a more precise location on Dr. Brezhenski.

She expected that would be the last she heard of this plan.

She was wrong. A week later, Logan was in her office with a map and many more details. Alec was there as well, pouring over the offerings, showing the first signs excitement in a long while.

"It's not so much of town as a… government camp," Logan revealed pointing to the mark on the map.

"That's about what, 100 miles west, northwest of Khabarovsk?" Alec nodded.

"115," Logan said stiffly.

"Ah," Alec grinned and pointed at the map. "Your scale is off."

"Right," Logan replied flatly. "Sorry. So, she's either the doctor is in charge at this camp that the Russians deny exist or…."

"Or what?" Max asked. "Or she's a prisoner? Great. Now we're considering jail breaks for foreign criminals."

"Hardly the first time," Alec said in an amused whisper. He looked up to see both staring at him. "What? It's not. Why do you think I know Russian in the first place?"

He scoffed as if they should have put that together themselves.

"Look, not everything in my past involves killing people," he said. "Some of them were rescue missions. Granted, I might have been rescuing Dr. Mengele, but hey, he's probably a relative of the guy who cooked me up in the test tube in the first place, right?"

He grinned back at them, his happy-go-lucky approach and attitude about something so horrific stunned Logan and exhausted Max.

"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat and moving on. "Two plans. First, and preferred option, we snag the doctor and bring her back to the states. I'll send you with papers to try and make that easy. Second, fallback plan, you get everything out of her that you can and do what you can to set up a communication link for me to talk to her. I can't send you with any equipment to get that done. You'll have to improvise."

Alec winked and clapped him hard on the shoulder as he grinned.

"What I do best," he said.

"I won't be there to save your ass so improvise carefully," Max replied.

The queasy feeling was returning to her stomach, as it had the previous two times they discussed his mission. This wasn't a mission to sustain them. This was selfish undertaking. This would benefit her and only her, if it benefited anyone at all. She could listen to Logan and Alec justify it in big pictures terms all she liked, but it came down to her desire to be with Logan. This wasn't even a sure thing. Logan's contact couldn't confirm Brezhinski was at the camp, only that she had been several years ago. It was too much a of longshot and she'd allowed the two dominate forces in her life to convince her it was more than that. Logan's motivation was obvious: his life was at stake. Sure, he could place substantial distances between him and Max to guarantee his safety, but that's not what he wanted. He wanted a relationship with her that didn't require a satellite link to communicate; he wanted a life with her.

Alec's motivation remained a mystery. She heard his claim that this might help them with White and the breeding cult. She just didn't buy it. No matter how many ways she twisted it in her mind, no matter how often she grilled him a more rational answer, that's all she got. Something was missing. He was holding out on her; she was certain of it. When he left the office after their meeting, she expressed as much to Logan.

"I think you need to accept what you've been telling me since you guys dug in here," Logan said,. "Alec's a changed man… somewhat. He's trying to help, Max. He feels he owes you for all the times you've saved him in the last year. He's a grand gesture kind of guy. Plus, you have to remember what he is."

"Collossal pain in the ass, dipped in pool of braggadocios and rolled in a tray of ulterior motives?" she replied. "Yeah, that's what is worrying me."

"He's a warrior, Max," he said, resisting the urge to reach out and comfort her. He wouldn't even touch her on her clothing for fear of an accidently brush with her skin. It ached to be so close to her and still so far there could be no contact. "He was literally built for this kind of thing. His cocktail wasn't mixed for him to run with a unit. His training taught him how to cope within one, but Alec was created as a loner. Trust me."

She looked at him with questioning eyes. First, she didn't like the tone in his voice. He spoke about a fellow transgenic like he was a thing, not human, a robot perhaps, but certain not a flesh and blood person. Next, his confidence in understanding Alec, something she as the person closest to him on the planet had a hard time doing, was suspicious.

"The files," Logan admitted. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you. Some of them are the genetic profiles—the basis for the formulas anyway—of the X-5's and X-6's. Not all of you. Some of the records were damaged or not there, but the X5-490 series was there."

"How many others?" she asked.

"Uh, most of the 200's, none of the 300s for some unknown reason," he said. "Maybe a quarter of the 400. You're not there. The 450 series is one of those that is missing. A few 600s and nearly as many 700s. The 800 through 900's are there, but those were all… destroyed."

"How do you have them if they're destroyed?" she asked.

"No, not the records, the… you know," he said with an uncomfortable shrug.

"Oh," she nodded. "The people. They killed the kids."

"Some didn't make it to delivery and there are a lot of notes on what went wrong with the pregnancies," Logan explained. "Others were still born or had genetic defects that were considered sufficiently undesirable so they were… terminated."

"So you got a lot of the records?" she asked. He nodded. "Must take a lot of time going through them one by one."

"I have specialists who are doing that," he said and saw a flare of anger in her eyes. "I am going to turn all that information over to your folks. I am. You were so busy here with getting set up that I didn't want to add to the chaos, Max. Honest."

"Thanks and that's not my issue, not my first issue anyway," she said. "What the hell were you doing checking into Alec? That's kind of invasive, Logan. What right do you have to know more about him than he does about himself?"

Her anger surprised him. He expected a little truculence at his delaying in letting her know about the records, but defending Alec's privacy was a shock. The man strutted around like he was the universe's gift to all. He liked attention and parading himself as a specimen to behold. Anyone who ever watched him work the room at Crash knew that. He was an exhibitionist. He would probable want to post his cocktail specifics on an Eyes Only broadcast as a dating foray.

"I was just… you work with him and he's…" Logan began but couldn't explain.

Yes, the second he got the records and realized what they were, he first looked for a file on Max. Finding none, he started looking at the series numbers he did have. Seeing that the 490s were intact, he did go automatically to the one designated 494. Nothing in it surprised Logan. Feline—a combination to two in fact, the cheetah and jaguar. There was some aspect of a bat and a jackal, plus and a few other things that most X-5's had. Much to Logan's surprise and dismay, there was no jackass in Alec's cocktail. Apparently, that was his choice in personality traits rather than a DNA imposition.

"He's doing us a favor the size of which I'm not sure you get," she seethed. "This is above and beyond the call, Logan. He doesn't have to do this. This is a risk—one I'm not sure he should be taking."

"It's his choice," Logan said with finality.

"Not if I don't approve the mission," Max replied, folding her arms petulantly and offering him a sour, displeased look.

"He'll go anyway," Logan shrugged. "Just so you know, that's not me talking, that's Alec. He told me so before you got into the room. He said you were getting antsy about the mission, but he'd made his choice. You say no and he'll light out on his own."

Max nodded. She wasn't surprised. She wasn't pleased. She hoped that after a few weeks of acting like a command structure her de facto second in charge would begin to accept her leadership for himself rather than merely expecting everyone else at TC to do. She didn't want to think how things might turn if one morning everyone woke up and word got around that Alec bailed on them. As annoying as he could be with his antics, Alec could keep up morale like no one else. His energy level alone, that impish naughty grin and infectious laugh kept spirits up and hope alive for a lot of folks who simply need just a single reason to go on each day. The X-7s were known to follow him around, which creeped him out at first, learning individual social skills from observing him. The X-6's were impressionable teens looking for a role model. Many remembered him from Manticore and felt comfortable knowing he was a part of this venture. The remaining X-5's were also familiar with him, some having served with him on missions, may others having trained with and against him at the facility in the mountains. He was one of them. They knew what he endured at the ends of the Psy-Ops team and respected his resilience to bounce back from it. Whether it was helping sneak in food and supplies, telling a dirty joke, scheming for the day when they could (perhaps) roam the streets freely again or merely showing a kid the ropes, Alec touched the TC in ways that Max, as the head of the operation keeping all the parts moving and strategically safe, could not. In short, she needed him.

There was also the matter of her personal needs. He was good for her. She knew that. He annoyed and harassed her. He made her job 10 times harder some days with his antics, but he was the only one who talked to her like she was still Max, the bike messenger. He respected her, she knew that. He liked her even; she could sense it in the way he would smile at her sometimes or roll his eyes to get a grin out of her when Mole was on a tear about the lack of order and discipline and the need to fight back rather than cower in the corner. Many nights, on her way back to her quarters, she often paused at the top of the hall leading to his room. The urge to knock on the door to see him, just to decompress from the day, was strong, but she always hesitated. Sometimes there was no light under the door, signaling he was either off roaming (doing who knew what) or that he might have an afterhours visitor (doing who knew). She wasn't aware of any hook ups with fellow transgenics, but that didn't mean he wasn't. Interrupting him with a woman in his room would not improve her evenings.

Or, if the light was on, she could hear other voices in the room fairly often. Alec's place was a popular hangout—not only because he had food and drink not found in the mess, and one of the few working TVs in the entire complex. People went there because he was fun. Alec was social. He liked people. He liked noise. He liked action. For someone who was such as loner, solitude did not appear to be his style.

"Is there something more going on here?" Logan asked as her silence lengthened and he spied a different sort of worry in her eyes.

"I worry about all my people," she said coldly. "He's a pain, but this place needs Alec."

"This place?" Logan repeated.

He was tired as well. This siege was not easy on him either. Granted, he wasn't the one with a gun trained on his house directly, but he understood the mentality. He had been Eyes Only longer than Max had been in Seattle. He knew what it was like to feel hunted as well. It was his apartment White destroyed in his pursuit of Max and her fellow transgenics. Everyone had sacrificed for this cause. Logan considered pointing out all those things he'd loss in the process, been forced to give up (including Max) to let her know she wasn't the only one hanging on by a thread some days, but he stopped. The angry look in her eye was directed at him. Accusing him of not trusting her.

"Sorry," he said. "I just… Sometimes… I know you're not… I'm just tired. We all are."

He wanted to reach out and hold her or even touch her hand, offer her some comfort, but the virus prevented it. The virus. That was the root of so many of their problems. That microscopic organism that could fell him in seconds flat. That tiny terrorist living in her blood… the one Alec assisted, at least in an oblique way, in putting there. He might not have delivered the organism into her blood, but he was part of the treachery that did. It was true that he was just a soldier then, not a free man, but that didn't change things for Logan. If part of Alec's willingness to tackle this mission was to help undue what happened, then that was just karma playing itself out in Logan's mind. The universe, sometimes, believed in justice.

"Look, the boat leaves tomorrow night," Logan said, dropping a thick envelop of papers on the desk. "That's everything he'll need, if he goes. If he doesn't, let me know. I'll… I'll think of something else, I guess."

Logan turned to leave. Max stared at his back as his exo-skeleton whirred and hissed with his steps.

"He'll go," she said. "Like you said, it's Alec. If I say no, that's half the incentive for him to do it."

"You really think he'll get on the boat and do this?" Logan asked, his one pulsing and remaining fear near the surface. "You think he's not scamming us? Get the new identity docs and a wad of cash so he can blow this town and go someplace else? You don't think there's a chance he'll be sipping Mojitos in Haven next week on my dime?"

"Nah," she shook her head taking the envelope in her hand. "He's not a Mojito kind of guy. He prefers Scotch."

**# # # # **

Alec's duffle bag was open on his bed as he tossed his few meager belongings into it. He would be travelling light. Only one weapon, two extra clips. If he needed more than that, he'd probably be dead, but he wasn't worried. His speed alone was a solid defense against most weapons. Despite his eagerness to get into the field again (or to get anywhere that wasn't TC), he was having pangs of regret for taking this mission.

Leaving Max alone to run things so early in this endeavor felt wrong. She needed friendly faces and voices to keep her from going too deep into her head, to snap her out of her bitchier moods or at least draw the fire when they hit.

Of course, she wouldn't be completely alone. Dudley Do-gooder would be there with his civilized tone and smart little glasses and whatever the hell else he had that made him turn her head his way. Okay, so Logan had class. No denying that, but where was the man's passion? Sure, he cared of justice, but what set him on fire (other than the virus in Max that would kill him—a thought that still could bring a slight guilty grin to Alec's face). He didn't wish the guy dead, but he wasn't sure he liked having him as a fixture in TC either. The way he would look at Alec sometimes was so supercilious; Logan the hero passing judgment on Alec, the ne'er do well con artist.

Okay, he'd earned some of his lumps. He'd pulled a scam or two that had gone sideways. Still, that didn't make him trash or subhuman. That's was really bothered Alec. He was the same as Max in many ways; he was one of her kind, but it was Logan who caught her eye. She was hot, even for a transgenic, who were (by and large) supposed to be cream of the crop for eye candy. That's what he told himself for the first half of the year. Her looks, her chemistry, were what drew his eye. He could have, and had had, many other women, but those were a distraction to pass the time. None of them were worth a second shot. Rachel, of course, was different. She was the one who showed him what affection, real affection, felt like. He'd made a mess of that because he'd been honest with her. If he'd just set off the bomb a few seconds early, before she got to the car rather than going to her, telling her the truth… Being honest about his feelings hurled her into her destruction. He was a smart man, genetically confirmed genius level IQ, so he learned quickly. That was a lesson he would never forget. Never put your heart on the line again; never open up to anyone should they pierce his armor.

Max was a practiced study of his rules so he would never tell her how he felt. Not that he was all that sure he felt anything. He was attracted to her (who wasn't?), but there was something else he felt. It wasn't toward her so much as it was about her. She made him want to be a better person. Not that he always succeeded. In fact, he knew he usually failed. Still, something about her made him always want to try harder again. That was rare and precious in his mind. His heart, too, if he was willing to be honest with himself. Yes, Max actually made him recall that he had one of those—not just the muscle that pumped his blood through his body, but the part of him that felt emotions so deep, so strong there were times he couldn't find the words to even speak to her. Instead, he would just look at her, feeling his face unconsciously draw itself into an archaic grin. That she thought it was a mocking expression was fine. It saved him the trouble of explaining that he was developing feelings for her. Feelings he was not supposed to have.

She was taken. She was a done deal. Her love for Logan was one of those tragic and epic things they made movies about, back when they made movies worth watching. They were unrequited and desperately searching for the cure. Literally. Now, they may have found it.

Alec did not consider himself a romantic at heart, but he knew enough about pain and suffering to know that if there was something you could do to stop the person who meant so much to you from that sort of agony, you do it. If he could have saved Rachel from the pain he caused her, he would have. He couldn't do that now; she was gone and it was history. But Max was here now, and he could take action. How he would feel if the cure was found was his own burden to carry. Luckily, they were on the verge of war. While most might not think that a good thing, Alec was certain it would be a sufficient distraction for whatever pain and anguish losing Max to Logan forever would cause him. It certainly would be helpful now, he thought. She was with Logan in spirit and soul; that the body part had to wait didn't prevent Alec from laying awake some nights, wishing she'd have a change of heart. He'd turn out his lights more often than not and stare at the ceiling, imagining her coming to his door, not weepy or crying over losing Logan, but confident, strong and firm in her decision that, cure or no cure, Logan was just not right for the person she had become. Maybe he was right for her when she first met him, but she'd matured beyond that. She's taken down Manticore and found herself, her real self, in the process.

It was foolish, he knew, something out of the countless hours of bad television he'd watched. Still, it got him through the tough, lonely, dark hours. His dreams were rather fulfilling as well. They were alternately primal and precious, always pleasing until the dreary gray light of morning pushed his eyes open to let him know the fantasies had to go away for the day. No more Max, in a raging heat, arriving at his door and venting her animal instincts and urges on him. He would wake, still certain he could feel her teeth biting his neck passionately as the rest of her melted into him. His heart would be hammering and the rest of him whipped into a fever, his head wet with sweat as the power of the images left him feeling tired and nearly weak for the first few seconds of consciousness.

He shook his head and would make a conscious effort not to have those sort of dreams on the mission—particularly on a ship of gnarled and crusty Russian fishermen. There was no way that would end well for anyone.

He was zipping his bag closed when there was a crisp knock on his door followed by the latch opening. Privacy was not something most in TC received or sought. Doors were more of a courtesy so that those passing in the halls didn't want to look at whatever was inside the rooms they passed. There was no point in waiting for permission to enter any room so most folks never did.

"Alec?" Max called to him.

He was not surprised it was her. He picked up her scent the moment she crossed the threshold. One of the many perks of being a potpourri of wild life DNA was the amazing gift of super sensory organs.

"Canceling my plans, boss?" he asked as he sauntered into the room. He folded his arms and leaned causally on the frame of the door leading to his bedroom.

"Handing you the roadmap to your demise, most likely," she retorted and held out the thick envelope to him. "If you're playing us and take this money just so you can jet, I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

"Oh, Maxie," he grinned thumbing through the envelope. "It makes me all warm and tingly when you get mushy like this. Control those emotions or people might start to think you're sweet on me."

She rolled her eyes and she offered him her best flat and sour expression.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked abruptly.

"Because this is how we talk to each other," he replied, walking by her and jostling her shoulder.

Not touching her when they were so close was nearly impossible for him. She usually squirmed away or responded with some physical abuse, but contact was contact, and he'd take what he could get while he could get it. He was, after all, an opportunist. He'd let his mind play with the memory of the contact later, doing what it could and creating a wildly more exciting experience in a dream from the lingering sensation he got from her skin. He found it ironic that Logan, who loved her, had to shy from her touch whereas he, her foil and punching bag, reveled in it and sought it, in a childish and naughty fashion usually, whenever possible. Again, the mind of a transgenic was a powerful creating force and the dreams and sensations it could conjure from even minimal stimulus was likely enough to send an Ordinary to the ER thinking he was tripping on an exotic drug.

"I mean," she scoffed, "why are you doing this? This mission? What's in it for you?"

"Job satisfaction," he nodded.

"Liar," she said.

"Relief from claustrophobia?" he offered.

"You don't get claustrophobic," she said.

"I'm tired of you chewing my ass all the time and Siberia seems like the only place on the planet currently that will get you off my back?" he ventured.

"Not buying it," she said, but there was a tone of guilt and sorrow in her words.

Alec realized there were only two tactics that would work here. Something open and caring or something aggravating and confrontational. Strategy was big in his world. He chose the easier option: confrontation.

"Bullet's bunking down with the goats now, just so you know," he said in a hairpin turn of the conversation that he knew would get her hackles up. It would help him set her up for the burst of anger that would end their evening conversation on a note he could live with.

She offered him a "so that's how it's going to be" expression. To his eternal relief, her displeasure and disappoint shot from her eyes and the hard line of her mouth like buckshot.

"Hey, we never finished our talk about the goats," he shrugged as if surprised at her reaction. "I'm just reporting in. We started this discussion earlier today. I'm just closing the loop, Maxie."

"Don't call me Maxie," she scoffed.

"Right," he winked at her and stepped close to her. " That really galled you today, didn't it? What I said earlier about being breeding partners?"

She glared at him and the stupidity of the question. Of course it offended her. The entire concept of an assigned breeding partner made her little more than livestock. That Renfro had a twisted sense of humor and decided to assign her Alec of all people only made it worse. She had done it, no doubt, because he was Ben's twin and the sick bitch knew how and why he died.

"I wasn't going to do it, you know?" he said off-handedly.

"Do what?" she asked.

"What?" he laughed lightly. "Are you that far gone from that part of your life because your do-gooder boyfriend can't even swap spit with you? Sex, Max! It's called sex. Do I need to show you how…?"

He gestured willingly toward his bedroom without any real hope she would agree. Her response let him know he was gauging the situation accurately. She threw her hands up and pushed him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps. The quick hit did nothing to remove the superior look on his face. He continued to grin at her.

"Just offering, Maxie," he shrugged.

"Stop and stop calling me Maxie," she said flatly with her arms folded and her hip jutting to the side in an attitude filled pose. "You wouldn't have done what?"

She was grouchy, grouchier than normal, but she was also a bit lonely. She had constant contact all day with people, her people, but they were needy. They only came to her when they needed something. Everyone, that is, except Alec. He never seemed to need anything—even when he did need something (like permission). He would drop by, harass and annoy her for no apparent purpose, then disappear either to take care of an assigned task or find someone to pawn it off to so he could be doing something else. As much as she hated to admit it to herself (and she certainly would never do so to anyone else), she had come to rely on those moments of mayhem courtesy of Alec to break the pressure of the day and make life at the top bearable.

"Wouldn't have followed my orders," he said. "Renfro, sent me in there to see if you were broken yet. She didn't think you were, but she had to try. You threw a false positive."

"I did what?" she asked.

"The tests they did," he said with a smirk. "The tests showed you were in heat. She figured you had an escape planned and my job was to find it, gain your trust, and… well, you know the rest of that. You being in heat was just an added bonus. They gave me a few extra shots that morning to increase the swimmers motility so that when the time came, impregnation would be a guarantee."

"I wasn't in heat," she shook her head.

"I know," he grinned. "How do you think you got a false positive?"

"How?" she asked, then recalled the exchange he made with the guard at her door. "You paid someone?"

"Not all the lab techs were happy with the boss," he shrugged. "Frankly, you could buy them off pretty cheap sometimes—cheaper than the guards, that's for sure. Look, I was being groomed for a different mission when you arrived. I didn't have time for this latest round of drama they were cooking up, but they gave me some downtime and were testing me, I guess, to see if I really was their good little soldier still. I figured, two birds, one stone and all that. Follow their damn orders, get cleared and get the hell out to do something that didn't come with a babysitter or a bitchy attitude."

That sent the flames burning in her eyes. He grinning quickly then shrugged and walked across the room, continuing his tale, stoking the anger he felt radiating off her.

"They briefed me on you," he said. " I had watched you from some video feeds and then they told me what I would be doing as soon as you were ready. I figured it would be best for one and all if we got things over with quickly."

"You had no intentions of…," she began and looked shocked and disbelieving, then shook her head and adopted a surly tone again. "What? Afraid you couldn't perform?"

"Not my type," he shook his head.

Her eyes pinched again in disbelief and a hint of a sting.

"I mean, a chick half broken by Renfro's re-indoctrination plans just isn't my idea of a good time," he said. "I wasn't ever part of the breeding partner's program. I was exempted from that class. Tested out, I guess you'd say."

Max scoffed. Only Alec would see his exclusion from a program designed to pass only the best DNA couplings as a compliment and twist the obvious slight into evidence of his perceived superiority.

"You sure it wasn't because they didn't trust you and didn't want to pass on your proclivity toward failure to the next generation?" she asked.

"If they were worried about that, they've have never made you a candidate for the program either," he offered in a salty tone.

"They knew you didn't… that you lied when you said you'd been successful?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head. "You were supposed to be in heat. Failure really isn't much of an option there. I mean, I've heard of guys who did, but they were a little light in the cocktail, if you catch my meaning."

Max ignored this. She had always wondered what his thoughts were about that first interaction, but never wanted to ask. He certainly had initially behaved like he expected her to submit. Whether that was part of the act, she did not know. She was better, now at least, of knowing when Alec was scheming and trying to play her. She believed she was immune to what passed for his charm, but she remained wary. Things had been different, better, since she off loaded some of her guilt about Ben to him. He took it well, better than she expected. His interest in Ben, and the way he spoke of him like he was a person and not just a creature whose actions landed him in PsyOps for further testing and investigation, touched her. He had no emotional connection to his twin; never even saw him with his own eyes. They were very different men. Ben had been sensitive and a soulful boy who needed answers; when he could not find them, he created them from his scared yet compassionate mind. That the world then twisted his softest and most human traits on him and turned him into a monster was yet another reason to hate Manticore, but it wasn't the genetics powerhouse who felt Max's anger and resentment about that. It was Ben's twin who, for once, was actually innocent of the crimes she assigned to him.

"So are you expecting me to thank you for not raping me?" she growled at him. There were times when his ego was nearly too large to fit even into a building the size of the abandoned factory they were using as their headquarters.

"No," he said sincerely.

This was not where he meant the discussion to go. The look of hurt on her face and the disgust he saw there were not the parting images he was hoping to have. He fumbled with his thoughts and his words.

"That's not what….," he said. "I meant, I just… You should know that I would never have done that to you."

"Why do I need to know that?" she asked, taken off guard by the earnestness in his tone. "You trying to prove yourself now? I know you have no love for Manticore, Alec. You're like the poster boy for freedom—as long as no one reads the fine print of what you did with a lot of that freedom."

He grinned, taking the dig as a compliment, which if pressed Max would admit was partly accurate.

"I don't know," he shook his head and spoke without thinking. "I guess I just wanted you to know that I'm not the kind of guy who would go to any lengths to be with you. I like the chase, but I don't stalk. We have animal DNA, but we're not animals, right? We make choices. Some choices are harder than others, but you make 'em."

She looked at him with a lost expression. She was not sure what he was talking about, but it didn't feel like the topic was Manticore any longer. He cut his eyes away quickly, as if she could read his thoughts. He swallowed hard and slapped the thick envelope from Logan on his palm loudly.

"Better make sure I remember to bring this," he said departing for his bedroom. "See ya around, Max."

He shut the door and stood in silence in the room. He waited several moments then heard the latch on the outer door catch. She was gone. He reached up and smacked himself in the head and whispered the word "dumbass."

Max stood in the hall feeling odd. _I like the chase but I don't stalk? What the hell did that mean? We make choices? Some of them are harder than others?_

His words echoed in her head the rest of the night. She meant to catch up with him the next morning, but a review of the perimeter action from the night shift told the story. Alec left TC an hour after Max left his room. Logan confirmed that he boarded the frigate as planned and then nothing more was heard for three weeks until Logan linked into her laptop with the terrible news.

The ship went down in a terrible storm 80 miles off the coast of Vladivostok. There were no survivors. The news hit Max like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. She felt the pain, felt the breath get sucked completely out of her chest and felt her knees turn sufficiently to jelly that she was glad she was sitting when she received it. Like the way he left TC, he'd slipped away without her noticing it happened. Hearing the news, she felt both prickly tingly and numb in the same instant. It wasn't possible, but Logan had confirmation from three reliable sources on the ship and crew's fate.

Alec was presumed dead, lost at sea.

**AN**: You know it doesn't end there. I should confess, I do love cliffhangers. More to come. Stay tuned. Review if you feel the urge. I love suggestions for where to take it next.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 2)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Thanks so much for the quick feedback. You guys rock! I completely forgot how much I adore the fanfiction community—so much sweeter and productive than some of the voices in the publishing for-profit world. Hope you continue to enjoy the ride (and pray my publicist remains clueless I'm doing this; since I can't definitively prove doing this will result in my actual book's sales going up, she'll put me under lockdown without wifi if she gets wise to this).

**# # # #**

"Max?" Logan said for the third time.

She continued to look at the screen, unblinking. There was no emotion on her face, but there was a deathly cold light shining in her eyes. It radiated the darkness she always felt within her but had been able to fight back time and again as she convinced herself that things would get better—or at least not get worse.

Things were now worse.

Or maybe they always had been drifting there, but it took something like this to shake her sufficiently that she couldn't ignore it anymore. Yes, they were on what felt like permanent lockdown in a toxic wasteland. Yes, half the country wanted to exterminate them (a quarter wanted to pray for them or ignore them hoping they would go away or blend in and the remaining bits thought they were not real and part of a government conspiracy to cover up the existence of aliens from another galaxy). She was in-charge of a refugee camp of highly trained, not easily controlled super-soldiers all looking to her each day to know what to do next. The day-in and day-out grind was withering and wearying, but somehow she had always felt there was a glimmer of hope as each day rolled around and they were still here.

But now they weren't. Not all of them.

They had lost too many of their number to hate, fear, jealous and sadism. They had lost some to their own kind. Now, they were down yet another man. And this one was her fault.

She felt that way about a lot of their losses in the past, but this one was different. This wasn't Ben, whose life she snuffled out with her own hands. This wasn't Zac whose life she asked Logan to erase and rewrite after Manticore turned his valiant and heroic sacrifice into a means to twist him into a vicious killing machine aimed only at taking the man she loved from her.

This was Alec. Alec was gone, and it was her fault because he died to help her.

She was under no delusions about the general basis of his motivation. There were definitely some questions about the specifics for why he made the choice, but there was no doubt in her mind that he did choose to take the mission in an effort to set her free. What he hoped to gain from that—after all, it was Alec and there was always a personal angle to consider in all his actions—was a mystery. It would have to remain one as he would not be able to explain now.

"It's certain?" she asked listlessly.

"The ship?" Logan inquired. "Yeah, may have been pirates who boarded and things got hairy; I… uh, I have one source that claims the ship was carrying a weapons cache for some businesses minded North Koreans. Looks like the exchange was supposed to happen in the port but maybe the buyers had other ideas and tried to lift the load at sea to avoid payment. Or maybe they hired Filipino pirates to do it. I don't know. We do know that the ship blew up before sinking. Lends a lot of credence to the report that says they were hauling guns and explosives."

"He sure could pick 'em," she said distantly, wondering what his last moments were like. "Couldn't hitch a ride on shrimp boat or an oil tanker, no. Alec draws the one packed with incendiary ordinance. Huh. Mole would be proud."

Logan left her to silent thoughts for a moment. As he continued to look at her disbelieving features, he could sense her confusion, guilt and pain. He cleared his throat and continued his report in an effort to give her something firm to help her understand.

"I dug around, but there's no satellite imagery I can hack into as there's nothing pointed at that area that I can determine," Logan offered, seeing the listlessness in her expression as he felt the omnipotence of his details.

"So we don't know what really went down," she said resignedly.

_Did he fight, _she wondered. _Stupid question. Of course, he did._ Not on either side, no doubt, but for himself. Unless he was caught by surprise. She didn't know if Alec was a light sleeper; stood to reason he would be. Most X5's were hyper-vigilant. Not all had her ability to go extremely long periods without rest, but all had the training to remain awake several times longer than the averages special forces operative without difficulty.

"I'm sure it was over quickly," Logan said for lack of anything better to offer. He sighed. "The Japanese combed the area for two days after receiving the distress call with the coordinates. They scoured the area, in case there were any survivors. They, uh, they didn't find any. No one even made it into a life raft. Actually, considering what I am learning about the ship, there's a chance they didn't have any of those anyway. Not surprisingly, they were not up to code."

Logan paused as he observed the blank look on her face. He wasn't sure if he saw her brow contract in confusion or anger. Fearing this latest setback might launch her into another cold war tactic of not taking his calls or preventing him entry into her stronghold, he quickly explained.

"Not that I knew any of this when we started," he said. "I would never have put Alec on a ship I knew was… unsafe, I mean, destined for this sort of end. The papers said it was just a freight vessel doing a delivery to Seattle then sailing on to San Francisco before heading west across the Pacific. I guess I should have looked harder into the cargo from San Francisco. I just didn't think it was important because Alec wasn't supposed to get involved in any of their other… I mean, I don't think he was involved with… That is, I didn't think to do it because I wasn't worried about Alec while he was on the boat. I mean… he's Alec. He pretty much muddles through and survives anything."

"Until this," she offered dully.

"Yeah," Logan sighed. "I'm sorry, Max. I really am."

And he was. He didn't feel remorse exactly or any real sorrow, but he did have a pang of guilt that the only reason Alec was on the doomed ship was because Logan's network turned up the doctor's name. He didn't like sending anyone to their death, even someone like Alec whose early demise was not all that unexpected. Sure, he might bounce back from all sorts of mayhem and chaos and you did sort of always expect him to dodge the bullet (and not just because he was technically faster than one), but there was also something reckless in his approach to life. He knew he was nearly indestructible, and he acted that way, even when he shouldn't. The only thing that allowed Logan to square this in his mind as an acceptable loss was the fact that Alec volunteered for the mission; although, the motivation behind that remained something he did not understand.

"Should I tell the others?" she wondered.

Morale was low, not surprisingly. Hearing they'd lost another, this one on a mission for an Ordinary no less, would not lighten the mood or make anyone feel overly friendly to those who were forcing them to be penned in TC like prisoners or worse, rats in cages.

"I don't know," Logan replied honestly. "Will they care? I mean, have they been asking about him?"

"Some," she shrugged. "And yes, a lot of them will care."

"Sorry," Logan mumbled and ran a weary hand over his face.

He got the call around 2 a.m. about the fate of the ship. He had known for several days she did not put into port as expected. He had been checking weather reports and other leads to see what might have delayed her. Finding none, he began digging, feeling is own hopes for the future draining away painfully as each inquiry turned up negative information. When the report of the sunken vessel hit his email, it was like being shot all over again. He lost all feeling for a few moments before the realization, like the pain of bones shattering, ripped through his body. He'd had people make contact with the other doctors, O'Connell and Meinke. They would not be of any help. Both, however, mentioned the one they felt might: Brezhenski. Logan didn't put much more effort into looking for the lost ship after that. Instead, he was combing his network for someone else he might try to send after the good doctor. He knew Max would not risk another one of her people.

He debated on whether he should tell her Alec's fate instantly, but he knew she would want more answers than simply that he didn't arrive. So, after several days of waiting, he finally got the briefing from a contact with an in at Japanese Naval Intelligence. Once he had that, he sat in his office for a long time, planning how to break the news to Max. He was going to promise to find another way to get to Brezhenski and was about to say so when the haunted look on her face halted him. He realized she hadn't asked about the doctor or whether she might still be able to help them. She'd only asked about one thing: Alec. Now, she was asking, in a saddened and shock filled voice, about how to let others know he was gone.

Max blinked unseeingly for a few moments as the awful reality of Logan's news crashed over her. It didn't feel real. She didn't want to believe it and if she didn't, could she share it with others and tell them simply to move on? No, in truth, she didn't want to tell them at all. It felt like defeat or a cruel punishment for those who already had very little they could point to and say that's why they were hanging in there. However, not telling them, withholding information they would want to know, of course, would feel like lying. They'd lost comrades in the field before; they had buried a few of their own just since retreating to the sanctuary of TC. But telling them that Alec was gone would deliver a nasty blow. Their charming chatterbox was now silent. Forever.

"The reports state the ship sunk, and there was nothing found?" she asked, forcing her mind back to the conversation and how she would disseminate the information to her colleagues.

"Yeah," Logan said as he looked over the report in front of him again. "Reports of a massive fireball on the water in the vicinity of the mayday coordinates summoned the naval vessels to investigate. They found a debris field only. What they did find they confirmed belonged to _The Temptress_."

"Belonged to who?" Max asked, pulled out of her fog by the word. Logan repeated himself helpfully. "You put Alec on a boat packed with explosives and it was called _The Temptress_?"

She laughed, suddenly an painfully for a moment as she rubbing her shaking hands over her face.

"Yeah," Logan nodded, seeing the irony in it. "In retrospect, it does make me question the possibilities of Fate. You okay?"

Max cocked her head to the side and leveled him with a disgusted glare. It let him know she was not interested in support or sympathy right now. She wanted answers, better ones than she was getting. She also needed a plan for how to proceed. She exhaled slowly, the weariness in her face and body obvious as she fixed her all-business expression on the monitor.

"So, lost and presumed dead but no body found," she nodded. "That's accurate?"

"Yeah, and a little misleading," Logan offered. "False hope isn't really hope, Max. Softening the blow is… not really your style. What's going on?"

"I'm only dealing with facts right now," she said with a shrug. "Look, we don't know he's actually dead. Yes, it is a high possibility the crew was all lost, but Alec wasn't like the rest of that crew."

"Agreed, but there was evidence of a firefight that resulted in the ship either being scuttled or accidentally blowing up then sunk," Logan asserted. "This does not have a happy ending, Max."

"Doesn't have to be an ending at all; Alec is good with weapons," she argued. "We don't know what happened other than that sorry bucket of rust and rivets is on the ocean floor right now. For all we know, Alec stowed away on the ship that attacked or maybe he commandeered it for himself. He could steal a ship, Logan. Trust me."

There was a hint of anger in her voice, as if she was scolding Alec for doing just that. Logan heard the desperation in her voice and wanted so badly to go to her, to hug her and tell her he was sorry for her loss, but he couldn't. First, the virus prevented anything resembling physical comfort and support. Next, getting through the sectors and into TC was not usually an easy matter. The distant look in Max's eyes told him there was a chance she wouldn't permit her perimeter security to allow him entrance today.

"Then why didn't he make it to my contact at the harbor in Vladivostok?" he asked, trying to get her to see reason. "He's gone, Max. You need to accept that. I know Alec was your… colleague. He was… I kind of liked him, too… a bit… sometimes. I certainly respect and appreciate that he was trying to help us. It makes his death honorable. Guess maybe there was something noble in a guy with jackal DNA after all."

The words were out of his mouth before he realized it. Even he heard the backhanded compliment for what it was: a slight to the fallen soldier. Logan shook his head. He was tired and disappointed, too. He looked at Max on the cyber feed and felt the dagger sharp cut of her expression.

"Nobility isn't a genetic gift, Logan," she said coldly. "It's a choice that a human being makes."

_Sometimes_, Logan thought, but decided not to say it. From the slight curl he spotted on Max's lip, she was thinking along the same lines, although hers was probably less of an editorial and more of a fond memory for her lost comrade.

Alec as a memory, Logan sighed. That, like the rosy colored reminisces of the past people conjured, could be hard to compete with. Not that he felt he needed to compete with Alec. Yes, the guy was childishly charming and considered good looking, but he was also troublemaker, a schemer and had the morals of an alley cat when it came to women. Why women were attracted to that remained a mystery to him. The appeal of the bad boy image was lost on Logan. He shook his head. Alec, his ghost, his memory, had the possibility of growing into a saint. That, he knew, would be difficult to live with.

But what did it matter? If they never found the cure, he could never be with Max anyway. He wouldn't need the too fondly remembered image of Alec to block his happiness.

"I didn't mean that like it sounded," he began, but she never heard his words as she cut the link and stalked away from her computer.

Logan stared at the blank screen then cursed loudly. The sonofabitch was dead and still Alec was causing problems.

**# # # #**

"I told you it was a bad idea," Mole growled as he loomed in the doorway to Max's office later that afternoon. "Went and got his ass turned into fish food for your Ordinary's compromised immune system. I'll probably crack open a tin of anchovies in six months and find his damn finger in it."

He snuffed his displeasure at the thought, although whether it was at finding a bit of Alec ruining his rations or the thought that he was dead, Max did not know.

"Of course, this is all the word of your loverboy's truth and consequences network?" Mole continued. "You sure it's accurate?"

"I trust Logan," she said firmly.

"Not what I asked," Mole growled. "You trust everyone who gives him information? Wait, you must, you let Alec go on this bullshit adventure based on his intel web."

"Nobody let Alec do anything," she said. "He does… did… whatever he wanted. Always."

"You could have stopped him," Mole growled.

"How?" she sneered. "Ordering him not to go?"

"No, asking him not to go," Mole countered. "You've known the guy for what? A year? I've known him a few weeks. Guess what I figured out? He doesn't like taking or following fucking orders. Know what he does do? Takes fucking requests. You ask him for something and its within his power and abilities, he'll do. Tell him to do it and you're shit out of luck. Hell of a leader you're turning into if you didn't know that about the guy you've known the longest here."

Max glared back at the reptilian warrior. She considered defending herself but opted not to; Mole was just lashing out, reacting to the news in the only way he knew how: fighting. She was trying to think of how to move this discussion along when the sounds of a stifled sniff drew her attention.

CeCe leaned on the wall to her left. Her head was cast downward and her shoulders drooped.

"It's not Max's fault," she said then turned an icy gaze on Mole. "You wanna run this joint then challenge her to a fight outside. You wanna be a cold blooded bastard who second guesses everything after the fact, go find another audience."

"Sweetheart, we're all bastards," he sneered. "Daddy was a syringe, or did that slip your mind?"

"Enough," Max said with a tired sigh. Bickering wasn't going to help or change anything.

"Well," Mole said, relaxing his posture and throwing a sour expression at both of them, "just do me a favor, don't plan any Ops for me based solely on intel that Ordinary brings us. I ain't afraid to die, but I'd like it to at least be for something that matters, like our freedom or a chance to see and smell the inside of a Waffle House."

The transhuman scoffed and scuffed his feet as he pulled a half-smoked cigar out of his pocket. He chewed the end for a moment then spit on her floor before walking dejectedly out of the office.

The others in the room, CeCe and Bullet and Joshua remained silently for several moments. The two X-series soldiers eventually drifted away behind Mole, sullen and expressionless. Max had called them to her office to give them the barebones update on Alec's presumed fate. She did not say he was dead, only that he was missing and presumed dead. It made a difference to her. After all, she had been missing and presumed dead once as well. Logan didn't know if she was alive at the time, but he always said he felt it, in his gut, that she wasn't gone. Max wasn't sure how she felt at that moment, but she knew Logan never fully gave up on her. She came back to him then… in part because of Alec. In larger part, because of the transhuman sitting beside her desk, holding his heavy, hairy head in his long arms.

"Joshua?" Max said tenderly. "Are you alright, Big Fellah?"

"Not alright, Little Fellah," he whispered and sniffled. "Alec missing. Maybe hurt. We looking?"

"No," she said sorrowfully then shook her head slowly as she stroked his arm gently. "It happened so far away. We can't look. Logan said the Japanese boats couldn't find anything. There's nothing more we can do."

"Alec swim," Joshua nodded. "Boat sink; maybe Alec swim away."

Max sighed and swallowed hard. Telling Joshua was almost harder than hearing the news the first time herself. Joshua saw Alec differently than others. That was due in part to Joshua's view of the world. He could see people for who they were inside rather than what their actions and reactions outside appeared to be. He was wise to Alec's hustles and scams, but he let them spin around him and (sometimes) out of control in the hope that Alec would learn a lesson. He often did, though sometimes not until it was nearly too late. He trusted Alec and cared for him. Joshua was the one who showed Max there was something behind Alec's bluster and man-with-a-plan bravado. The artist in him could see the darkness, the pain in him, left by the scars Manticore inflicted on his soul. The night of Joshua's first (and to date only) dinner party, he was the one who did not find it odd that there was powerful and beautiful concert piano music coming from the basement. He had never heard Alec play until that moment, but it did not surprise him Alec could do so. He sensed a lot of hidden things in Alec, and those reflected in the abstract painting he did of his friend.

"I wish that happened, too," Max said truthfully while offering him a soothing tone, "but I don't think it did."

"Logan ask his contacts?" Joshua asked. "They look for Alec?"

"I guess," she shrugged. She really didn't know if he followed up with them once being informed their operative was no longer going to make it into the foreign country.

"Ask Logan," Joshua nodded, tears streaking down his face and wetting the ends of his long mane of hair. "Maybe Alec swim away. Working on mission now. Come home with answers so Max and Logan get busy."

Max sighed and moved closer to her friend. She stood up and held his shaking head as he cried into her shoulder. He whined softly for several minutes as the pain of the loss echoed in his mind and heart. After a moment, he looked up at her with dark, moist eyes.

"Alec never say goodbye to Joshua," he whimpered.

"Me, either," she shook her head as she pet his hair comfortingly. "He just left."

"Maybe because he not gone forever," he offered hopefully. "No goodbyes if not really leaving."

Max sighed.

**# # # #**

Max dragged herself from her office and across the compound. Her quarters were at the far west corner of Building Four. It was a small room that had been an office at one point. There was one, cracked window in the middle of the main wall. She could have a snagged bigger and more accommodating location, but it didn't seem right or necessary. First off, she was in charge. There was no reason not lord over the embattled troops from a sweet suite that had perks they didn't have. Next, she didn't sleep much normally. Why would she want a larger space to do nothing more than stare at the walls and wait for the next problem to arrive?

Alec, of course, was of a different mentality. On day one, probably within the first hour, he snagged himself a suite—two rooms and a private bath. By some miracle their engineering crew fixed his plumbing in the first few days so that it was operational while so many others were stuck using the former public rest rooms on the main floors and the gang style showers in the lab areas that were once used for decontamination procedures. Max fought with him about this and the only concession she got was an offer to use the group showers if he could schedule his time there based on who else was using it. From the leer he offered to a trio of passing, bright eyed X5 females who blushed at his wink, she was certain he would be putting up a sign up sheet for showering on his door that afternoon. All in all, she reasoned, there would be less trouble if she let him keep his private accommodations. Whoever he invited there would be a problem for another day. Preventing afternoon orgies in their main shower area was not a priority she anticipated when the siege began, but as Alec was so fond of pointing out: The burden of command meant you had to deal with things on the fly sometimes.

So, he kept his private bath and he didn't start a harem, one that would likely turn on him within a week, if his track record was any indication. Thinking back to that, Max chuckled painfully for a moment then winced in pain.

It was recalling the mischievous look in his bright green eyes that set her off. They were expressive eyes that told you much more about him than his mouth ever would—well, more truthful things about him at least. They were stunning eyes to boot. His long, thick, dark lashes accented the beautiful and inviting irises as if they were specifically designed that way, which, considering his origins, they likely were. She wondered again at the mind behind the creation. Did Sandeman, or one of his lab assistants, really sit down one day and say: I'm gonna mix me up a playboy cocktail? Max felt sure that whoever it was that cooked up Alec must have been a woman. Whether it was Ben's sensitive nature in childhood or Alec's preening peacock strut, he was engineered to attract women.

That, Max knew, was a great skill for covert operations. Women could be wooed and made very useful. Men, too, if needed. She smirked painfully at the thought of Alec being sent on such a mission. He had suffered under Normal's twisted fascination and admiration. However, Alec had also used those gifts, showing he knew how to manipulate using that attracting force. Other men, like Logan, were repelled by Alec. Whether that was something primal in all of them, a resistance straight out of the brain stem, or simply a socialization quirk that didn't like too many cocks in the hen house, she didn't know.

Logan's objections to Alec were mostly based in morals. He felt Alec had none. Logan was wrong, Max knew. It was that Alec could ignore his if it would help satisfy a need or an urge he wanted fulfilled. Other men, she noted, did not react quite the same to Alec. Sketchy, straight and in his own mind a player as well, befriended Alec. That was the other benefit to being an alpha male. Others, who were not alphas, were likely to follow and assist in the hopes of riding the coattails.

Max sighed, feeling that cold knot in her chest tighten as she recalled nights at Crash. Watching Sketchy get beaten, yet again, at pool by Alec. Logan beat him once, she recalled. It seemed odd that he had. Alec's superior dexterity, control and eyesight should have given him the clear advantage. But whenever Logan and Alec went head to head, things got odd. Logan, the smartest man Max knew, could be easily ruffled by Alec. Logan was a confident man, Eyes Only himself, who did not need to prove he was brave or righteous. Yet throw Alec into the room and Logan would become sullen and snappish. There were moments when it felt like he might sudden drop trow and start marking territory to prevent Alec from claiming it for himself. It was as though Logan felt threatened and inferior, somehow less of a man, in Alec's presence. That was why Logan freaked when he spied Alec with her that morning after he got released from the hospital. It was also why she let him continue to think she and Alec were a couple for she hoped it would drive him away quicker.

Alec had known it too and been hurt by her decision. He didn't like being used that way, set up like a poor stereotype in her shattered romance saga with Logan. She saw the hurt in his limpid eyes, and it bothered her. Alec played people all the time. He would string along two girls at once for his own pleasure. Why did he care if Max made it seem like she was dating him simply to anger Logan into turning on her? What did he care? His image was already that of a cad.

She suspected now, after hearing from Joshua, that it was because Alec felt it was a reflection of what she thought of him. They never got a chance to talk it; they were under siege too quickly and then he was gone. They never talked about much, she realized, until the night she spoke to him about his twin brother, Ben. Remembering it, the knot in her chest twisted again and made her shiver deep in her gut. They were both gone now. She didn't think it possible until that moment, but of the two, she missed Alec more. She knew Ben longer, missed him and wondered about his fate longer, but Alec… he meant more to her in the end.

The silence of the room pressed in on her ears and make her feel jittery. Night was always the worst time at TC. At least, lately. During the first few weeks, it was the tensest time for certain. They never knew if the military or White or the sector police were going to stage an incursion. They were on guard and on edge in those dark hours. But that was a feeling they understood. They were trained for that sort of thing. She recalled walking through the complex, keeping to the shadow to observe the hidden sentries at their posts and admiring their rigid composure as they stood watch.

She usually encountered Alec during her excursions. Experienced in recon, he usually could be found in one of the high nooks of the cavernous buildings facing a soft and valuable entry point—a likely spot for their enemies to exploit. Unlike the others, however, he would rest in his perch, loose-limbed and relaxed. It was as if the nearly unbearable tension of their predicament meant nothing to him.

"Do you take anything seriously?" she asked, stalking up behind him. Whether he knew of her approach or not, she did not learn. He did not jump when she spoke, but she knew that could also be from decades of training.

"Sex, money, fresh apples and windswept white sand beaches," he answered quietly while sporting and easy and contented grin.

"Yeah," she had shaken her head. "I don't get your thing for apples."

He shrugged and continued to survey the area, his legs dangling from the rafter that was his lookout spot. Max had sat beside him in companionable silence, feeling no need to speak and finding it slightly odd that neither did he. He cast her a glance several times as his eyes randomly roamed across his field of view. It was a heavy, blazing gaze that she could feel sliding across her face, her neck and the rest of her body.

She would never see it again, she realized with a sudden feeling of choking terror. The pain was as sharp as it was without warning. She jumped to her feet as if shocked by electricity. Her feet propelled her out of her room and up to the top floor. She padded softly and quickly along the quiet corridors until arriving in the corner room.

Max turned the handle on the door, and it swung inward with a hush. The room was dark and devoid of life. She stepped over the threshold and quietly latched the door behind her. At first glance, it was a small sitting room with a small couch and battered coffee table that some fool rich trend-setting would probable pay 50 times what it cost when it was thrown together initially. Her enhanced eyesight could see the scuff marks from the boots that had once rested there when the man who used to call this room home would sit on the couch and watch his prized possession. She turned and faced the metal cabinet that housed the precious object. Peaking inside, she saw the TV, screen now dark and collecting dust. No one had been in this room for several weeks. She wouldn't permit it.

She issued that edict two days after Alec departed upon finding several of the X6 generation piling in there during their off hours. She didn't want the room to become a haven for those who were hiding from or shirking their duties; it was bad enough the one who called the place home used it for that. She also didn't think it appropriate for people to invade his space. Alec himself was not precisely respectful of people's property. He was an expert thief who took what he wanted when he needed it, but that didn't mean others should follow his example. If there was one thing Max would have at TC, it would be trust among the residents. They needed to know they could rely on each other. Respecting their personal space, their individual belongs and rituals, was part of proving they were just as civilized and human as the Ordinaries outside the fence.

There was another reason, of course, why she didn't want anyone in Alec's quarters. It just felt wrong. This was his sanctuary. She found him here often, yelled at him for being there or whatever he was doing there in the process usually, but it was a place that suited him. He found some peace in this space and that, she admitted to herself, mattered to her. Now, looking around the dark and quiet room, she felt the knots in her chest begin to ache as a cold chill, like the ghostly hands of a lost lover, caressed her neck.

She looked around the room with a haunted expression. There was nothing truly of Alec in there.

She went into his bedroom and snapped on the light. The bed was made. The footlocker at the bottom of the bed was open and empty. She pulled open the drawers of the small dresser. Very little remained in them. Several T-shirts, a couple pairs of socks and a fraying hoodie.

She lifted one of the T-shirts and held it to her face. She inhaled the fading scent of him, a balance between a slightly sweet and slightly musky essence. The feeling it conjured was so overwhelming her eyes and mouth went dry as if it was siphoning the life out of her. The muscles in her neck seized as her throat knotted viciously with sorrow. She dropped the garment back into the drawer then leaned heavily on the dresser, bowing her head, waiting but knowing no tears would come. Instead, the pain they were supposed to wash away would remain in her, like poison, eating at her slowly and eroding her already scarred soul.

"Damn you, Alec," she whispered in a cracking voice.

**# # # # **

The noise in the bar was high but not so high to prevent talking. Max sat in a chair, staring at the array of empty glasses on the table. Damn that increased metabolism, she thought. _Can't even get drunk to numb myself when I want it._

Her companion for the evening was telling her about her recent run ins at their former favorite watering hole. Original Cindy, her hair teased and tied up tonight, was rolling out the story with a displeased tone that echoed of her continuing disgust with the male population.

"So then he get all coolio actin' like he think I'm jonesing for his ounce of lovin'," OC said splaying her fingers and rocking he neck side to side exaggeratedly. "I'm like, whachu thinkin' you sad excuse for a Dexter. I don't play for your team. Then he's all like…"

She paused and looked at her friend with a concerned expression as she realized Max was staring back at her with glassy eyes. The tears were pooled up at her lower lids and being held back through her sheer force of will.

"Boo, what's wrong?" she asked quietly.

She could barely give the answer. Saying even the word was painful, but at least away from TC, she could let some of her raw feelings show (to OC anyway)

"Alec," Max answered painfully and simply in an equally low tone.

"What that hard-up fool gone and done now?" OC asked flatly. "You need me to smack him into next Sunday for you? Don't he know you all on the brink of war? He playing hide the salami with your alpha girls gettin' them all riled up and ready to throw down with each other over his tight but sorry ass?"

Max smirked at the question. What she wouldn't give for that to be the problem.

"No," Max said and looked at the table. "He's gone. Dead."

"What?" OC gasped and grabbed Max's hand.

The care giving touch was almost more than Max could take. She pulled her hand back and folded her arms tightly around her then welded her eyes shut for a moment as she drew a deep, controlled breath. At Manticore, they taught you to hide the weaker emotions, sadness and emotional pain. They drilled breathing techniques into them; trained them to push all those feelings into a small, escape-proof box deep in their minds. Sadness, like mercy, was for the weak.

"Oh, girl," OC sighed and moved to the other side of the table and put her arm around Max.

As soon as she did so, a blond with high cheek bones and a slight scruff on his cheeks slid into her empty chair.

"I have been watching you beauties for half an hour," he said and grinned at them, showing off a jewel drilled smile. "It's official. You ladies are too fine looking to be left all alone."

OC's head swiveled sideways and her chin hung down in disgust as rage burned behind her dark, wide-set eyes.

"Boy, can't you see I's about to put the moves on my honey?" OC snapped. "Don't be interrupting my action. Go find some fool straight girl who wants to choke on your nasty-assed bedazzeled dentures!"

The man shirked and surprise, turned red with embarrassment and ducked away from the table. With her heavily heeled foot, Cindy shoved the chair her occupied to the next table and returned her attention to Max, who was no longer on the verge of tears. She grinned at OC with her mouth, but the pain in her eyes still betrayed her.

"I don't understand; there was nothing on the news or from Eyes Only," she said quietly, stroking Max's arm. "What happened?"

Max slowly explained about the mission and the news Logan brought a week earlier. She hadn't really slept since she found out—not that she was sleeping much before either. She tried to rest, but all she would do was stare at the cracked, water stained ceiling in her quarters. She didn't have any real thoughts in those moments. She didn't feel any tears in her eyes. She felt nothing, which was somehow worse and more exhausting. It was as if losing Alec robbed her of what little emotions she possessed. Until that afternoon.

As if sensing she was still experiencing the numbness and shock of it all, Joshua left her a gift in her office. It was his portrait of Alec. She looked at the massive dark splotch that engulfed most of the canvas then her eyes were drawn to the dizzying array of bright and beautiful colors surrounding it. Dark on the inside, pretty colors on the outside, like camouflage, Joshua had explained. A dark and painful secret buried deep with a lovely and lively façade to cover it all. If Joshua had not told her the description was that of Alec, she would have been sure he was speaking about her.

She stared at the picture for a while, standing up eventually and touching the canvas. It was deeply textured with many layers of colors. Even the black abyss wasn't a simple stain on the surface. It was a thick stratum of different grades of darkness, different grains and qualities. It was rough and yet smooth; it was shiny and fluid, yet it was also scuffed and dull. It was perfectly simple and horribly complicated. It was hideous when looked at in individual quadrants and breathtakingly beautiful when viewed as a whole picture. It was maddeningly chaotic and fractured and yet it gave her a sense of calm for it came together so seamlessly for what it was: a brilliant and stunning work of art.

It was flawed and frustrating; sensual and seductive; dangerous and delightful; primal and (in its own way) perfect. It was Alec.

Running her fingers gingerly over the image, both the pretty and foreboding parts, had raised a lump in her throat and shivers in her muscles. She felt weary and antsy. She hadn't left the TC in weeks, but she couldn't take it, not another second. She barked a basic command at the first person in the command post she saw, then left word she was going out to breathe some less toxic air. The hiss in her voice and the fierce glint in her eye did not encourage anyone to question her. She left the compound through the sewers then made her way to a bar several blocks from their former watering hole, Crash. She wore her hair down, her hat low and her tinted motorcycle glasses to do something of a disguise. No one in the bar looked at her long, especially after her "girlfriend" arrived following a quick call to summon Original Cindy.

"That's a damn shame," OC said sullenly when Max finished telling her the news. "I'd like to slap that boy silly more often than not, but even I'd have enjoyed it a bit—and he'd have enjoyed it more."

She winked at Max, who offered a sad grin and agreeing nod.

"You feeling more than just sorrow over losing someone you knew?" OC asked. Max looked at her blankly. "Don't give me no vacant stare, girl. He wasn't just one of your old class mates from the school of Hell's Hardest Knocks. That boy got to you on the inside; has me wondering if you wanted to have an actual piece of him banging around in there as well."

"What?" Max shook her head. "No. Alec was a pain." The word "was" cut into her throat. It felt sour coming off her tongue.

"There's being a pain and causing a pain," OC assessed. "You know what I'm saying? Which was he? Be honest with Original Cin, girl, he gave you a precious ache."

"I don't know what you mean," Max shook her head.

"Please," OC scoffed. "Always hanging around; always givin' you the fits. Always jiving you and winding you up like his favorite toy. He wanted to get down wi'chu, and you know it. Did you wanna take him up on that offer or not?"

"Alec wanted to sleep with most women he met," Max said. "Logan always says he has… _had_ the morals of an alley cat."

"Well, Logan was jealous of him, but we ain't talkin' about yo' man in waiting," OC continued. "I's askin' you 'bout yo' man in the middle. In the middle of all that trouble that kept you on your toes, in the middle of yo' work at Jam Pony, in the middle of yo' problems with those of us without any special juices. You mean to tell me you never even considered…"

The noise in the bar was sufficiently high that no one was paying attention to them. Max's hyper-alert senses were scanning the room for anyone too closely focused on them. Most were drinking themselves happily into oblivion, watching the rigged game of pool on the side of the room or keeping an eye on the scantily clad dancers who were grooving on the bar top. Sitting here in the open, surrounded by a room of ignorant Ordinaries, she felt safely hidden from the world that wanted her dead.

"Alec was in the middle of a lot of things," Max said evasively.

"Like yo' dreams?" OC asked boldly. Max fired a confused look back at her friend. "Hey, even OC has had a sweaty flash during her nocturnals about that boy. I don't have to seriously want to play with the equipment to admire how fine it looked put together in that pretty package."

Max said nothing. A dream about Alec? No, she'd never had one. Then again, dreaming wasn't something she did often. Not sleeping often pretty much guaranteed that. She wasn't sure her dreams would be pleasant anyway.

"Joshua is torn up about it," Max said after a moment. "He cries himself to sleep."

"They were friends," OC said tenderly. She rubbed Max's arm. "You all cared about Alec, which tells you how special he was, especially considering how hard to tried to make sure none of you did."

"I don't think Alec put a lot of effort into caring or trying to change what anyone thought of him," Max said.

OC quickly scoffed.

"He sure did try and catch your eye when he could," she replied. "Boo, I can't count the times he sat that tight, little ass of his in a chair next to me and watched you across a room, flicking those green eyes up like a laser trying to read your mind or catch you looking his way. I mean, seriously, what's a boy that much on the prowl gonna hope to bag hanging out in the same sorry bar where all his co-workers hang? He could get into any joint in this town, but he went to Crash. You know why."

"He was friends with Sketchy and…," Max began but OC's flat stare stopped her. "He took Normal to a strip club once."

"As part of some scheme, no doubt," OC said sourly. "Tell me you are just playing this clueless because you're in shock. Girl, that boy wanted you; he wanted to dip his fries in your extra special sauce and you know it. He wanted you from the moment he met you. Wanted you even more each day he couldn't have you. Considering how you and Logan need to keep an entire sector between the two of you, I'm surprised you didn't order up a little Alec take out and have a taste to find out if you liked his flavor."

Max shook her head at the thought. It was never as simple as OC made it sound. Yes, Alec liked a conquest and a challenge, but he never seriously hit on her. He did so in glib remarks and obviously sarcastic overtures prompted by his extreme arrogance that no woman could seriously resist him. But he never truly turned that cunning and seductive charm on her. He knew he never had a chance with her because she simply wasn't going to be interested. Her heart belonged to someone else. Had since before she met Alec. Then he died trying to help her get that man truly into her life. _Why did he do that_, she wondered for the countless time.

She considered asking OC her thoughts on it, but before she could find the words, another unexpected face appeared at their table. His blond hair was unkempt and sticking out at all angles. He wore a pair of goggles on his head and faded T-shirt sporting a large coffee stain. His fair skin was glistening with either sweat or rain from outside.

"Ha, this is great!" Sketchy said loudly, then lowered his tone as OC's heel collided with his shin. "Sorry. I'm just… I was looking for you, OC. I never expected to find…."

"On the DL, Sketch," Max said lowly. "No photos and no attention. I'm no one, and I'm not here. Got that?"

"Okay," he nodded as he squatted by the table. "It's just… this is like kismet. I just got a scoop."

"Of what?" OC said and sniffed the air around him. "Something a dog left on the street? Man, you reek like a bloated sewer rat."

"The docks, actually," Sketchy said. "I'm stringing for the Weekly World News still and… I met this guy and he told me something that I think you can maybe help me with, Max."

"I'm not letting you interview me," she said and made moves to leave.

"No, not like that," he said holding up is hands to halt her. "You'll be my deep throat."

"She ain't gonna let you do that to her either," OC said sourly.

"My undercover informant who can simply confirm or deny a rumor," Sketchy explained exasperatedly. "No quotes. No mentioning where I got the info from. I just need to know: Did your lab have a set up in another country? Like maybe Japan or China or Russia?"

"I don't know," Max shook her head slowly. "Why?"

"You gonna try to put together the family tree of her foreign cousins or are you looking for a far off, extra exotic long distance love connection?" OC inquired and leveled a displeased stare at him.

"Neither," he said, waving Max back into her seat. "I met this guy, he works on a fishing boat, one of those big trawlers that goes to Alaska for crabs and also smuggles in Chinese who haven't heard our country is broke. Anyway, we were talking and he was asking about the, you know…"

Sketchy looked at Max and nodded leadingly. She sighed and shook her head. She made a movement with her hands for him to continue.

"Well, the guy's been on a boat at sea for months," he continued. "They put into ports all over the Pacific so news gets to them pretty slow. I told him who I work for, and he got all excited. Said he had a scoop for me if I believe in those stories about… mutant… uh… different folks."

When neither Max nor OC hit him for saying the word mutant, he leaned in and rubbed his hands eagerly. The women exchanged and exasperated look then leaned across the table to listen while wearing flat expressions.

"A merman," Sketchy whispered and practically giggled with delight. "One of your kind, maybe, well, not your kind, not exactly, but like a cousin, maybe right?"

"What are you talking about?" OC asked and raised her hand to slap him if the urge grew any stronger.

"Okay, so get this, this guy I met was at some port off Ussuri Bay when he's looking over the side of the boat in the harbor and he sees the impossible," Sketchy said with an eager smile. "A man, swimming, well drafting his vessel. Guy is under the water, holding on to something, letting the boat pull him along. My guy said they were moving at a pretty good clip and the merman stayed under for like eight minutes before breaking the surface and going under again. He said he saw it happen like five times. He couldn't believe his eyes, but he got a picture of the creature even. If I give him $500, he'll give it to me and his story. Sounds crazy, right, except…"

Max cut him off before he could continue.

"Wait," she interrupted. "Ussuri Bay? Off Russia? Near Vladivostok?"

"I don't know; I guess," Sketchy shrugged and nodded.

"When?" she demanded.

"I don't know" he shook his head. "We didn't get into a lot of details yet because I didn't have the money on me. Look, is this guy on the level? You have mermaids or mermen in your family tree?"

"Boo ain't related to no fish," OC said quickly. "Sounds like you got played. Good thing you didn't hand over your cash."

"I don't know," Sketchy shook his head. "He seemed legit, so I thought I'd do a little fact checking. Guys over at Crash said they saw you, OC, duck in here earlier. I was going to ask you to get word to you, Max. So, tell me: Did you guys have satellite offices in other locations?"

"I need to see this picture, Sketchy," Max said quickly. "You gotta pay the guy and get it for me. Tonight. Like, now."

**# # # #**

Logan squinted hard under the light at his desk while Max paced in front of him. His now destroyed penthouse had better lighting and equipment, but she felt safer, more grounded here in Joshua's old house. She walked back and forth as she cast her eyes at the couch with its rumbled blankets. She had woken Logan not long after Sketchy gave her the picture and the recording of his brief interview. He wasn't happy to turn over his scoop, but her hand around his throat was sufficient persuasion to give her the information.

"Well?" she asked after several trying minutes.

"I don't know," Logan said holding the poor photo under a magnifying glass. "I don't really have the equipment here to analyze this. I see a pale, sort of oblong shape against a dark wall, sort of."

"The dark plane on the left is the hull of the ship," she said snatching the picture from his fingers and holding it up while she pointed at it. "This field here is obviously water."

"Obviously?" he repeated. "It's a blob of black, just like the thing you think is the side of the boat."

"They're different," she said firmly. Her enhanced eyesight clearly saw the differences. "The hull is solid. The water is mildly opaque. I can see the differences. This shape here, this…"

"Blur or lens flare?" he offered with a yawn as he pushed back his wheelchair from the desk.

"It's a man, Logan," she said. "That line right there is clearly an arm. I can see the side of a head and an ear."

"I don't see it, Max," he replied.

"I do!" she snapped. "Logan, trust me. I can see it. It's a man. Now, how many men do you know could hang onto the side of a steaming ship and keep under water most of the time?"

"Manticore did produce some trangenics who were aquatic based," he reminded her. "You met two of them. Maybe this is…"

"He's wearing clothing, and he's not exactly swimming," Max pointed again at the details of the photo she felt were obvious. "He's tagging along, just hitching a ride. Look, this is Alec. It's gotta be. I'm telling you Logan, he got off that ship, The Temptress, alive. He survived the sinking and the explosion. This picture was taken two days later, 40 miles away, while the Japanese were searching the mayday coordinates. Of course they wouldn't have found Alec there! He got his ass out of the area as soon as he could."

Logan sighed and looked at her with pity. She was grasping at straws and her adamancy both worried and soothed him. He was pleased because she appeared to finally be reacting to the news he dropped on her a week earlier. He was worried the denial would never end and, coupled with the pressure of command and the prolonged siege without any noticeable progress, would finally do what Manticore had not: break her. This was a good sign—evidence the grieving process was taking place in part somewhere deep within her. She was fighting letting Alec go, but on some level her mind knew it had to happen. What concerned Logan was the vigor in her assertion that this grainy and blurry photo was solid evidence. She was fighting the urge to let Alec go too hard and was throwing herself willingly into the realm of fantasy. The lost soldier's hold on her seemed most strong at that moment. Logan's gut twisted with a knot of jealousy, but he kept it down, reminding himself that Max had been through a lot. She would grasp on with her mighty strength to any shred of hope she could find at this point, about anything that she feared her kind had lost.

"Max, I think you know, it's unlikely that…," Logan began.

"Did you ask your contacts about him?" she demanded, remembering Joshua's plea from a week earlier.

"Ask them what?" he wondered, rolling is chair back toward the couch where he had been sleeping until woke him by snapping on the lights without warning and her shoving the photo in his face. "Max, I got a report from the harbor that the ship never arrived. I got the information that the Japanese search crews found nothing but sonar showed the ship, what was left of it, was on the bottom. What could my contacts hundreds of miles from that spot possibly tell me?"

"Whether Alec showed up and started looking for the doctor," she said flatly.

The irritated expression on her face screamed that she wanted to punctuate the statement with the word "dumb ass" but he knew she wouldn't. She saved that level of bitchiness only for Alec usually. Then again, Logan sighed, he felt a bit like Alec's surrogate lately. The anger she normally vented on and about him seemed to be directed Logan's way more often than not, except he heard a different tone in her voice and thought he saw a different, harder, glint in her eyes with him than he ever observed toward Alec. Her anger with Logan felt cold; her frequent displeasure toward Alec had always pulsed much hotter.

"Fine," he relented with a shrug. "I'll reach out, see what they say. Don't get your hopes up, Max. You've been through enough. I don't like seeing you hurt yourself over and over like this."

She regarded him with softer eyes. His care and concern were obvious. He was worried about her. She knew he wanted to be there for her, to comfort her, take the pain away, but he couldn't. A terrorist that lived in and under her skin prevented it. She had been so focused on losing and then, possibly, finding Alec that she had forgotten what Logan had riding on this mission. He loved her and that feeling could kill him.

"Sorry," she said, slouching to the opposite side of the room. "I just think this is something we should look into. No harm in just asking, right? I mean, you had no reason to believe I survived the mission to Manitcore, right? Did that stop you?"

"No, because… because I love you and I didn't want to believe you were gone," Logan said calmly.

"Well, I don't think Alec's gone either," she shrugged, avoiding why she thought that as she wasn't entirely sure herself. "I just think we owe it to him to check."

"Owe it to him?" Logan repeated. "Since when do we owe Alec anything?"

"Fine, I owe it to him," she said sourly.

"You don't owe him either, Max," Logan assured her. "I get that you're still feeling grief and some shock over his loss. You've been through a lot in the last few months, so I understand. But at least be honest. If anyone is in debt here, it's Alec. He took this job to try and get out of your debt."

"I really don't know why he took it," she said. "I know what he said, but with Alec…"

"What he said and what he actually meant isn't always the same, yeah," Logan nodded. "I know. I've met him."

Max turned and impassive expression his way. She was tired but still felt a surge of energy. Sketchy's tip for a story had revived her but had demonstrated to her how weary she truly was. Logan wasn't buying her theory, but the photo was hard proof for her. No, she couldn't see the swimmer's face, but was a swimmer. That was a man. So unless that freighter snagged another pale faced body in the middle of the open sea within a day or two of Alec's ship going down and that body had the strength and ability to hold on and stay submerged for minutes at a time in frigid waters, this was hard evidence. Alec, she was certain, at least made it off his doomed vessel alive.

"I should go," she said jerking her head toward the door. "Let me know if your contacts have anything?"

"Sure," Logan nodded as he rubbed his stubbly chin. "May not hear anything right off. They're not always easy to catch up with, plus the time difference and all. I'll… come by?"

"Sounds good," she bobbed her head then ducked into the dark hallway and out the front door.

**# # # #**

Four days later, Logan was led by two pre-teen boys with identical faces and blackened eyes down a dank tunnel that led from, of all places, the sandwich shop behind City Hall, to the farthest corner of TC. He was learning that there were a myriad of ways into the complex, long forgotten drainage and sewer passes, electric conduits for lines the that fried during the Pulse and were no longer considered viable, the labyrinth of exploratory shafts for what was going to be a network of natural gas lines and a subway system, all that went nowhere when the economy took a dirt nap.

He didn't know that he could find his way back to TC without the help of his unspeaking guides. They were clones, he knew that much, and communicated ultrasonically making the journey confusing and quiet. Once within the perimeter, he was handed over to two transgenics, only one that he recognized: CeCe.

"Hey," he said, glad for the familiar face. "How's… everything?"

"We're still here," she nodded affably. "Max got your message and told me to bring you straight to her office. Something up?"

Logan hesitated. He didn't know what information Max disseminated . He didn't want to mess with her delicate balance of power and wasn't sure what he was permitted say. Instead, he shrugged and sort of chuckled.

"Usually," he offered unhelpfully.

The blond transgenic looked at him coldly. Logan gazed back without antagonism and, he hoped, without fear in his face. He never knew what the mood might be toward Ordinaries when he arrived. Not all those who called TC home were as friendly to those outside the wire as Max could be. Some were outright hostile—like the lizard hybrid, Mole, who would rather waste anyone with run of the mill DNA than let them look cross-eyed at him. Logan understood it was a survival instinct; Max certainly had her hands full trying to keep everyone inside and outside the TC to remain in their neutral corners.

"Max wanted some info so here I am," Logan finally said.

CeCe nodded, taking the answer better than his first. She led the way through a series of hallways then across an alley, through a warehouse and finally into the building Logan recognized as their command post. His exo-skeleton was growing heavy on his legs, and he was grateful for the opportunity to take a rest once he got into her office.

"Thought you were getting better with that whole walking thing," CeCe said, noting his breathlessness.

"Oh, I am," he replied. "It's just… I'm not used to hiking five miles every day through aqueducts while trying to keep up with Heckle and Jeckle."

CeCe snorted a brief laugh. Logan smiled relief.

"The X7's," she ventured. Logan nodded. "Yeah, that's what Alec called them when they were in pairs. That or Frick and Frack. Actually, a couple of them took those as their names."

Her eyes flashed shiny for a second, as if there were the hint of tears there, but it disappeared just as quickly. She waved her brief and silent farewell and left him alone in the room to wait for Max.

Naturally, Alec had names for them. Unflattering and chiding names. Logan felt his use of the same terms was kinder. He was being creative in his report; he was a journalist and a turn of phrase was part of the job as much as delivering the truth.

The truth. He sighed as he pulled an email from the pocket of his jacket. He was there to deliver some to Max. He smoothed out the message and waited for her to arrive. He could have called to deliver it, but he wanted to see her, to be there in person when he did it, as if that would somehow make it go smoother and right the situation for them. He did rush to bring it to her, knowing she was waiting. The decision not to convey the answers over a cyber chat was made when he contacted the TC and found she was busy dealing with plans to connect power to a different part of the complex as they redistributed their forces within the toxic complex.

He was wondering what, if any, improvements they were making in their walled city when the door behind him opened. He never heard her steps. Her feline inclinations made her approaches silent as always. She looked at him with a scared yet eager look. He gazed back with satisfaction and provided her an answer quickly.

"You were right," he reported with a smile. "Alec made it to the encampment outside Khabarovsk after all. He got off the boat in one piece somehow; I don't have those details. He didn't check in with my contact in the Harbor at Vladivostok, but he did hit the secondary check point in Khabarovsk. They saw him 10 days ago. Sounds like he found Dr. Brezhenski."

Logan smiled warmly at her, glad he could deliver good news. He watched, with joy, the relief wash through her dark eyes. She took a steadying breath and hung her head. She nodded slightly then looked up with the hints of a smile on her face.

"Told you so," she offered in a friendly chiding way.

"That you did," he agreed. "I'm hoping to hear more later tonight about what progress he's made."

"You can talk to him?" she asked with interest.

"No, my contact was sending one of his people to get some details," Logan shook his head. "I'm hoping I'll get an update on his progress and if there's an exit strategy in the works. I've got some ideas—a safer boat this time, promise—to get him and Brezhenski back here. It'll take a little bit to coordinate it, but… I'm hopeful."

Max nodded her appreciation. Logan noticed tension in her shoulders from the tight grip she had from her folded arms. He suspected she was forcing herself to stand still rather than hug him; he felt the same way and decided not to over analyze the moment.

**# # # #**

The day was grinding along. Mole had just poked his head into her office to announce Ralph had returned from her supply run without any difficulty. That allowed Max to check the only planned incident off their list for the day. The rest would be spent inventorying what they had. Making plans for the rest of the week and checking in with their outside contacts on where things stood with the federal government on their desire not to be jailed as well as their other contacts on what White might be planning in the vein of exterminating them from existence.

All in all, it should be a quiet day, she thought as Mole departed chomping on his vile cigar. She made a mental not to see if they could tap into a cheap supplier of them the next time they made a run. The one in his mouth was growing dangerously short and she heard from others that it was his last one. She didn't want to think what a pain in the ass he'd be if he was forced to live without them.

Max shook her head and made a mental note to add that to her ever growing "to do" list. Getting cigars for Mole should not have been on her radar. This was something best left to someone with that granular level of interest in the lizard man's happiness. That no one really understood or cared what made Mole happy, least of all Mole himself, was an issue as well. The only reason to give the guy anything would be to get on his good side, to form an alliance. She had no need of that. She had his grudging and grouchy allegiance simply by virtue of being in command. No, placating and manipulating the man to keep him out of everyone else's face was a job best left to someone with a different skill set.

Alec, she thought, and caught herself smiling at the thought of him—and not for the first time in recent days.

He should be heading home soon, she knew. Logan was still working on the precise details, but he got word from his contact 12 days earlier that Brezhinski was no longer at the camp and Alec had made contact with one of Logan's people in a town many miles away. It was a good sign. The mission was nearly complete except for the last bit: a clean departure.

Max was feeling a good deal better lately. Her sleep, minimal as it was, was still fitful, but her quiet and alone time in the evenings was no longer as grueling. The knots in her chest had subsided, and she was allowing herself to think positively. Or nearly positively. There were more "possibly's" and "maybe's" in her thoughts now. Like, possibly they could avoid the wrath of Mole's cigar drought in the next few days or maybe she would give that menial task to Alec when he finally returned, so they could avoid this situation from erupting again in the future.

Alec, she shook her head again. She would have never thought it possible that any notion beginning with him could give her any sense of ease or pleasure. It was a measure of how screwed up her world had become, which was saying something considering how FUBAR it was to being with.

She muddled through the day, taking complaints and suggestions from her fellow TC inhabitants. She video conferenced with Detective Clemente, in secret on his end, about what the sector police were reporting to the mayor. There wasn't much in the way of news for what the federal troops were thinking. They had reduced their number outside the gates as the weeks had dragged on with no offensive action from Max's people. The public, by and large, was growing bored with the standoff, which boded well for the fenced-in freaks. It took the pressure off the politicians to do anything. This was a huge help Max knew. It took another bullet out of the guns pointed at the toxic wasteland. The flipside was, the media was getting bored, too.

The only upside of having a news camera targeted on your front yard all the time was that it added some security. As soon as everyone stopped gawking, White could make his move with relative ease. Max shook her head at that thought. One life-altering crisis at time, she reminded herself. Today's was the supply run. That evening, she was to meet with Mole to go over his wish list for their next outside the wire foray. Tomorrow, maybe, she thought, I'll give a damn about what White's got cooking.

Her meeting with Mole was short. She arrived as TC began shutting down for the night. The sentries were in place and the lights in the complex cut to just a few strategic bulbs needed by those whose cocktail hadn't given them spectacular night vision. She arrived at Building Two, which served as the armory for the complex, to find Mole leaving for the night.

"Here," he growled, shoving a paper at her as he stalked out of the room. "I need that."

She let him pass, not caring where he was going. This was an improvement over their more recent meetings. The fact he had written down what he wanted rather than spit it in her direction was practically a marriage proposal by comparison. The door slammed shut with the finality of an argument ending cuss. Max waved carelessly and needlessly to him over her shoulder as she began to peruse his wish list.

She was engrossed in the details when the door flew open and a rush of air told her she was no longer alone.

"Max!" Bullet called breathlessly as he blurred into the room. "Max!"

"What?" she asked, looking up at the shelves and racks holding their meager but well-protected weapons cache.

She didn't carry a firearm. Never had since leaving Manticore the first time, which put her in the super minority in TC. She was looking over Mole's latest wish list and projections for what they might need to continue to keep their position secure, glad to note most of what he was asking for was for electronic surveillance and not assault rifles. She turned her attention to the agitated X-6 who had skidded to a halt beside her.

"Sick bay," he blurted out and pointed wildly in the direction of that building.

"What about it?" she asked in a clueless voice.

No one was in their medical unit that night. No one was hurt, as far as she knew. Transgenics and transhumans rarely got sick without some seriously nasty bio agent's assistance. There were also no pregnant transgenics close to going into labor. There was no reason any should be in the medical triage unit that night.

"He's here," Bullet grinned, his face glowing and his eyes wide like tea saucers. "He said not to bug you when I let him through the northwest conduit, but I thought you'd want to know. Pride was passing by, and she took him down to Medical with her because he was bleeding a little."

"Who?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Alec," Bullet beamed. "He's back!"

* * *

**A/N:** More to come. Thanks so much for the reviews. I like your questions and the ponderings as much as the suggestions!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 3)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Thanks again for the reviews and the follows. It makes all the difference to know people are reading and liking the story. I've had some time off so I was able to throw together the first few chapters pretty quickly. Now, I have to go back to work that pays me, so updates will take more than 48 hours (all apologies!). I'll try to update biweekly (sooner when possible). I threw in some good-natured shout outs in this one to a few of my reviewers and followers in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

**# # # #**

Max heard everything Bullet said, but in his few words, two rang clear and jolted her system.

_Alec. _

_Back._

She did not wait to hear additional details. Instead, she turned quickly and left a blur of color and disturbed air in her wake as she motored through the warehouse and across the complex to the smaller building to the left of the compound's nerve center.

**# # # #**

Alec sat on the bed in the medical unit and stripped off his T-shirt as ordered. He pulled the torn shirt over his head and looked at the wound. It was small, hardly worth a trip to the infirmary. He got it from an unexpected run in with a few tweaked out steelheads in Sector 4 as he doubled back on his return from the rendezvous point with Logan to insure he hadn't been followed. Alec dispatched the attitude oozing pin cushions easily—dropping the leader and his three friends with a few quick shots to the occipital lobe and a quick hold to the carotid artery between them. No one would suffer any permanent damage. He made sure to use only the pressure and force needed to render them unconscious. No one would claim they were beaten to a pulp by the feared freaks from TC. Sure, they would have a few bruises from the warning blows he did tag on them, but those were just friendly taps. He didn't ask for the fight; they were the ones who came at him so they honestly had to expect some push back. _After all, when you only bring steel pipes and machete to a transgenic fight, you couldn't realistically hope to walk away unscathed_, Alec thought and chuckled at the memory.

It had felt good to be in action again. Two weeks crouching in the hull of a freighter had left him cramped, chilled and agitated. Being still and quiet for so long was unnatural to him. He had stealth abilities. He could disappear himself into shadows with ease, but that didn't mean he liked it. Alec preferred the sunlight and the noise of the world too much. Hiding wasn't his preferred style.

But it was necessary in this instance. His travel companion was not going to hold her own in a fight or pass herself off as a longshoreman. She was a strong and feisty old broad, but still obviously an old broad. He was impressed by her fortitude and courage as they made their passage. He figured so many years toughing out those Siberian winters was a help to her.

He actually liked Svetlana Brezhenski, or Sveta as he called her. The shortened name brought a barely discernible twinkle to her wrinkled and faded dark eyes. She hadn't been much to look at in her youth either, he supposed, but it was her frank and defiant attitude that caught his attention. She might have made a good soldier herself, not as good as a transgenic, but definitely someone who could follow through on a mission. Her cold and clinical opinion on the Logan/Max problem made him think she also could have been a high quality sniper. Her decision to flee Russia and return to the US with the not-fully-human stranger in order to help a couple she did not know had been quick and without hesitation. _Build a virus killing agent to destroy a powerful and highly technological weapon? Of course. Lead the way._

Whether she could do it was another story. If forced, Alec had to admit that a small and despicable part of him hoped she could. He was tired of the Logan and Max saga. The longer it dragged on meant everyone had to suffer under the angst of their personal plight. He wanted to smash his head into concrete nearly every time he caught the longing and smoldering looks exchanged between the couple that screamed of their unrelenting ache to be together.

Alec didn't get it. If he was Logan, he wouldn't have put up with it. He'd just grab a hold of Max, do exactly what felt good and natural, then die (painfully perhaps), but at least he'd die happy. The pleasure of attaining what he wanted most, the euphoric joy of being with Max for the last moments of his life, would be a life well spent and an end he would gladly meet. This pansy-assed caution to hold on and hope for something better made no sense. The world was a mess and going to end, bloody and viciously, some day no doubt. Why make yourself suffer needlessly and alone in the pathetic hope you could find a happy ending? Just do what you wanted and die with a smile on your face was his preference

He shook his head and sighed at the thoughts. Logan and Max. If Sveta was successful, they would finally be together. He'd probably have to give them some bile-inducing nickname like Lax or Mogan in the near future. He wretched at the thought as his doctor approached with a tray of suture thread, antiseptic and gauze. He turned his face toward hers, ticking through his memory for when he saw this person last. It had been at Manticore, he was sure of it. She was not someone he had encountered outside the facility until this night.

Not that he was seeing her willingly. It was not his intention to be in the infirmary. He was going to simply go to his room upon gaining access to the compound and wrap the stupid cut with the remnants of his ruin T-shirt. It would be fine in a few days without needing to pay much attention to it. It was Bullet's fault his plans changed. The kid was on sentry duty at the access tunnel when Alec arrived. The kid was surprised, elated even, to see him. Then, in his jubilation, his level one Manticore field medicine training kicked in—the basics they gave the younger kids to take care of themselves before training them in later adolescences to suck up the pain and ignore the blood until it was a real problem. The childish reaction prompted him to grab his radio. Seeing the cut oozing blood, he called for medical assistance. Alec protested until the lithe and leggy redhead currently administering to Alec responded as she was in the vicinity.

If not for the possibilities in her china blue eyes, Alec might have refused to go with her. As it was, looking at only a boat of gnarled and salty sailors and a Russian crone for several weeks weakened his resolve. He followed her, hoping the doctor's visit would be quick but enjoyable. He also hoped he could keep under the radar until morning. He was felt a juvenile pleasure as he anticipated walking into Max's office unannounced firs thing in the morning to tell her that he was the answer to her prayers: He had brought home her cure.

It would be bittersweet seeing the relief on her face in that moment. Doing something that would make her happy made him feel, good, proud of himself even. It would feel like he was finally repaying her for all the help she'd given him and making up for the trouble he had caused, from the moment they met until he opted to stand with her during the standoff at Jam Pony.

Still, bringing this solution to her problem also meant he was delivering her to Logan. That caused a cold and sorrowful stab of pain in his stomach. He was basically giving her to the guy. He didn't see the continuing interest and attraction there. The guy never had fun. He had all the money in the world previously and did so little with it to actually experience the world. Logan, Alec thought, was the kind of guy who would have enjoyed the dank and hidden passage across the Pacific in lieu of booking a ticket on a passenger liner where he could stand on deck all day, watching women in bikinis get tipsy on fruity drinks and spend the evenings on deck holding those same women in his arms as they swayed to sultry music until the moment when they were ready to take the action back to a cabin where the rocking of the ocean would be…

"I said, does it sting much?" the redhead asked Alec, apparently for the second time based on the firmness of her tone.

"Oh," he shook his head and dragged his mind back to the infirmary with a sigh. "No."

She wrinkled her nose in disbelief as she continued to swab the wound, cleaning out the debris that looked like a combination of gravel and flecks of rust.

**# # # #**

Max arrived in Building Two moments after departing the armory. The medical set up at TC was in many ways rudimentary with its low, sickly fluorescent lights, peeling paint and chemical stained floors, but it was still well-equipped. The teams in-charge of stocking it had lifted half a dozen machines for diagnostics and trauma procedures . There were four transgenics and one transhuman assigned on a rotating basis to cover the medical needs of their community. As the standoff remained at a draw, there was very little was needed from them on an average day. The action regarding the Manticore family was all happening in talks taking place in back rooms. Thoughts of bullets and tear gas were no longer the first or hottest options. For the medical staff at TC, this meant most of their work lately was patching up damage the TC residents were doing to themselves through sparing sessions that went too far as a result of oppressive boredom, but there was the occasional mishap on a supply run that needed stitches or a bone to be set.

Max hurried to the first of three exam rooms as that was the one where the light burned. Her rush, she told herself, was a function of her command. An operative, long overdue from a nearly deadly mission, had return outside of the anticipated strategic plan and was said to be injured. She needed details of the freelance return and to assess the health and welfare of one of her soldiers. She assured herself that the fluttering in her stomach and the reason her knees felt squashy like Jell-O probably was primarily because she was nearing the end of her sleep deprivation threshold.

She paused in the hall outside the triage room when she heard the familiar deep, mildly raspy yet lilting tone of his voice. Her heart hammered quickly at the sound, and she felt a mix of relief and pangs of annoyance. No one called her to say he was returning that night. No one notified her that Alec's journey back was even in progress. Logan, she grit her teeth, had some explaining to do. She shook the anger and the jitters out of her bones then took a deep breath and forced an impassive expression on her face as she prepared to enter the room where Alec was attempting to charm his medic.

"Seriously, I was listening to you; I was just lost in thought—I was thinking that you're much better looking than I remember," she heard Alec saying.

To hear his voice again felt good and reassuring. Whatever landed him in sick bay was not too serious. She relaxed at that determination. Max bowed her head and sighed a silent thanks to the universe for that.

"I never forget a face, which is how I know you haven't been in Seattle long, because I haven't seen yours in a very long time," Alec continued. "So, that means you must have been on a field trip when Max burned the Big House down last year."

"I was," the voice of the recently arrived to TC X-5 named Pride responded as Max stepped around the curtain to look at him. "Are you feeling delirious or do you always talk this much?"

"Just enjoying speaking English again," he said. "I think that's because it's one of my favorite languages."

"Bullshit," Max said stepping around the curtain to join them.

"I'm fluent in that one, too," Alec offered, strategically not looking in her direction. "Plus Russian, Pashtu, Arabic, sarcasm and (naturally) the language of love."

At that, Max groaned inwardly then shook her head. She sighed heavily while consciously wiping out the unexpected smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She looked carefully at him sitting on the bed with his shirt off and a therma strip on his forehead to check his temperature. There was a deep but non-life threatening laceration in his left bicep.

She noted he sported a mildly scruffy jaw and that his dark hair was a bit longer than when he left. It was tousled carelessly around the chiseled features of his face. His face was still pale and adorned with a perfect balance of small freckles, which gave him a youthful and sweet look, but he appeared thin. There were dark circles under his eyes and slight hollows in his cheeks. He did not appear to be sick, but he had the look of someone slightly neglected or who had perhaps been on the run. His smile and cajoling and flirtatious tone, however, contrasted with this appearance. The new triage medic was on the receiving end of his charm blast, but did not appear affected by it. She nodded mechanically as he spoke while she quickly sewed a few stitches into his arm without concern or much bedside manner.

"So, back to your spring break trip, was it someplace tropical?" he asked craning his neck to try and look in Pride's eyes. "You just look like you belong on a beach."

Max cringed for Pride, who was suffering through the pickup lines and still sporting a professional and detached expression. _Why does he think that crap works with women_, Max wondered; although, she knew the answer: Sometimes, it did.

"The desert, actually," Pride responded crisply. "For the objective, I was sold to the chief of a Bedouin tribe. My mission was seduce him, or rather let him seduce me…"

"Never a bad plan," Alec nodded with interest.

"So that he would marry me," she said; Max smirked as Alec shuddered. Whether it was due to the stitches Pride sewed to suture his arm or the concept of marriage was not obvious. "Then, I was to fillet him after he took me as his bride. We had a short but eventful wedding night."

"Ah, happily never after," he nodded appreciatively. "I like that; it's appropriate. A guy marries, it pretty much is all over for him. You know, not that I doubt you're a demon in the sack and worth taking the plunge, but I am surprised a Bedouin chief took you as his bride. I mean, pale skin, red hair. From my experience, that pretty much makes you Satan in their culture, doesn't it?"

"Dyed my hair and took supplements to darken my pigment for a few weeks," she responded while snapping tape onto the edges of a bandage. "There. You won't be leaking bodily fluids on the floors now. Anything else I can do for you?"

"For me or to me?" he asked. "For future reference: Do you differentiate between the options or are they interchangeable?"

Pride snorted lightly then walked away from him. As she did, Alec finally flicked his bright eyes upward to see Max looking flatly at him. Her mouth was a straight line and her arms were folded tightly in front of her. He grinned and raised his eyebrows in at her then turned his sights back to the medic's swaying hips as she returned to the supply cabinet. Alec whistled lowly under his breath and sighed contentedly.

"You finished?" Max asked dully watching his interest with sparks of anger in her chest.

"Sort of depends on how she answers," Alec replied while shaking his head as his face contracted in a pleasure-filled expression while staring at the medic. "We really are a lovely race, you know."

He was snapped back to the conversation when Max backhanded him quickly making him wince at the sting of it.

"Hey, patient here," he said with a hurt expression. "You can't be mad at me right now. I'm delirious so have pity on me. I'm suffering from prolonged hypothermia and malnutrition."

Max harshly yanked the therma strip on his forehead off and read its findings. Alec quickly rubbed the spot and squinted to fight the sting of that as well.

"It's 103," she said flatly.

"Just being near you warms my heart?" he offered hopefully and winced again as she jabbed him sharply on his uninjured arm, striking the bone expertly. "Ouch. Okay, you got me on that one, but absolute truth: I'm starving; I haven't eaten in a while."

Max glared at him with an unasked question on her face.

"Like since lunch, but that was only a banana, and it was nearly 10 hours ago," he answered as he again cast his gaze toward the long-legged medic, who was bending over a laptop rather provocatively. "Come on, Max. A guy can look without it being an insult to all sexually repressed women everywhere. Not my fault someone gave me these eyes that pay such… close attention to… ooo… detail. That's just a nice view from any angle, but something is off. Can't think what it is. It'll come to me."

He ogled the redhead oppressively for another long second, scraping his mind for whatever niggling hesitation he had about the woman. She finally looked up and broke under the weight of his gaze. She grinned unconsciously at him. Alec bobbed his chin in the girl's direction; she blushed slightly and pressed a hand to her mouth to hide an almost pathetically childish giggle. Alec sighed wistfully, tuning Max out for a moment until she snapped her fingers in his face.

"Hey!" she barked. "Recruit another woman for your harem later. Report. Tell me what happened."

"When?" he asked. Max seethed and glared at him. "You mean the mission? Okay. Uh, let's see," he shrugged, ticking off the points on his fingers. "Short version goes like this: the boat sank so I improvised. (Yay me.) Then I found your mad scientist, and we took a lovely cruise back here."

He nodded deftly then looked back at her without expression. Max returned the look and waited for more information. The seconds ticked by but none was offered.

"That's all you have to say?" she demanded.

Alec shrugged then offered: "Hi honey, I'm home?"

"Well, you haven't changed, 494," Pride returned, her momentary lapse in resisting his flirting with now done as she surveyed the prickly posture between Alec and their commander. "You still hit on anything that looks female."

"Not true," he shook his head. "Please. I have standards. They have to actually be female, not just look female. And the name is Alec. It means the Defender of the People. Pretty noble, huh?"

Pride tossed a slighted and sour look in his direction. He grinned proudly. After a moment of refusing to wither under her scorching gaze, he nodded confidently.

"Right, and now I definitely remember you," Alec began. "I think I'm going to call you Wolfpack."

"You don't get to name people, Alec," Max growled.

"Right, because Alec is my name—you gave it to me, Maxie," he winked at her. "That's why I'm calling her Wol…"

"My name is Pride," the redhead snarled.

"Yeah, I don't care," Alec shook his head. "As I recall, back at the alma mater, you stalked me like a pack of wolves so…"

"No, I didn't," she cut in with a serpentine grin. "So call me my name: Pride."

"How 'bout I call you Annoying?" he countered with another playful grin that nearly fractured her defenses. "It's a starting point in this new thing we have going between us. Give me a chance and maybe I'll find something else to call you. Huh? What do ya say?"

She shuttered for a moment as a smirk played around her lips. Spying the medic's fortress floundering, Max cut into the discussion again.

"I actually considered naming him Dick," Max said leaning into the conversation. "I second guess myself on that one all the time."

"Ignore Maxie," he scoffed as he waved off her comment. "She's just madly in love with me but in complete denial about it."

He grinned at her, waiting for an assault (verbal or physical) to come, but was disappointed when he only received more of her angry glare. It was not the reunion he had hoped for, but was the one he expected. So, rather than observe her displeased expression longer, Alec looked up to see an eager X6 peering around the doorway. The short, sandy-haired youth was beaming as he confirmed the rumor he heard while leaving his sentry duty for the evening: Alec was back.

"Alec!" Bugler crowed and smiled excitedly. "You are home!"

"Ah, good, my personal staff has arrived." Alec said, snapping his fingers and signaling the child to step closer. "Finally. You're late, kid."

Max scoffed and quickly reminded Alec that the boy was not his staff. He did not get a personal assistant or a secretary or an executive anything. Alec nodded in agreement then turned back to the child.

"You are supposed to bring me coffee," he told the boy. "It's what my staff does—menial chores that will build character."

"Sorry, sir," the kid shrugged while grinning. "I didn't know if it was true you were back. I came to see for myself."

"Well, I'll let it slide this time," Alec said and roughly yet affectionate jostled the kid's shoulder before turning back to the medic. "This guy right here, this is the one you want to know around this place. Bugler, do you know… uh, what are we calling you again?"

"Pride," she said.

"Right," he nodded. "Wolfpack, it is. Kid, do me a favor, go to the Mess, get me some coffee and take her with you. Get her a dysentery popsicle on me and then call me when her fever spikes."

He grinned at Pride and gave her a look that said he was willing to demonstrate his bedside manner if she was interested. The corner of her mouth curled again in an unwilling smirk, but she did not yield to him or accept his offer.

"No?" he shrugged. "Okay, well then, Bugler, after you get my coffee, find out if Cactus is around anywhere tonight. She must have missed me."

"You gave someone else the name of a prickly plant?" Pride asked. "My, aren't you the charmer."

"Thanks, it's a gift," he nodded and grinned affably as though she had complimented him effusively. "Actually, Cactus is the name she gave herself. She likes the ugly things for some reason."

"You didn't change it on her?" Pride asked. "Why is Cactus so special?"

"He actually calls her Agave to her face," Bugler said helpfully then nodded. "Because he mistakenly thinks it's a cactus."

Pride looked at him with a question evident in her dark eyes. "What's so special about the agave plant?"

"Think of it in Alec terms as Cactus 101," Max sighed and rolled her eyes. "Agave is the plant used to make Tequila, so…."

"See, there's always logic behind it—a clear, definable and perfectly rational logic," Alec nodded and dropped his healthy arm around Max's shoulders. "Tequila makes women take their clothes off, as Maxie here knows all too well."

"I do?" she asked flatly and threw a sour look in his direction that only made his grin grow wider.

"Hmm, maybe that was just a dream I had," he shrugged then shook his head unconcernedly as he continued speaking to Pride with great confidence. "Anyway, as someone who studies me carefully, Max makes it a point to decipher and over analyze all of my words and actions. You see, it's all part of her covert plans to woo me into… _Unh_."

Alec doubled over and groaned instantly as Max's elbow collided with the soft spot just below his sternum. He gasped for breath as the pain shot through his bones and rattled his teeth. He shook his head to gain his senses.

"Just back and already I'm wishing you were food for bottom-feeding fish again," Max said, patting his head roughly as he gulped an unsteady breath. "You know, I forgot what it's like when you're… you."

Pride smirked, but there was a tender aspect to her eyes. She felt a little bad for him while still finding humor in his pain. If he didn't seem so obviously interested in Max, she might have offered to escort him to the Mess Hall. But he kept shooting quick glances at Max and kept up his goading comments to Pride, obviously to passive aggressively beg Max to focus her attention on him. It was childish and (in a pathetic way) sweet but also quite sad and annoying.

In response, their leader was throwing some seriously tense and conflicting vibes, Pride noted. Max certainly did not like Alec paying attention to Pride. She did not like him confidently joking about Max holding repressed feelings for him, but there was something more than an curious sexual tension going on. Max looked pained by the joy she was fighting from the moment she saw him. It was as if she was disappointed in herself for feeling relief at seeing Alec or worried she might give in to that brief flare of giddiness Pride saw in her eyes when Alec first smiled and winked at her. Pride suspected they were not lovers in the past; there was too much curiosity in Max's body language and too little resignation in Alec's.

_So this is what CeCe was talking about_, Pride thought to herself. Her fellow X-5 had explained Max's general moodiness on a daily basis was a side effect to their stalemate with authorities, her prescription for death with her boyfriend, a series of inner demons, and muddled feelings about the man she loved to hate: Alec.

After watching the two of them for this short period, Pride wasn't so sure the word hate belonged any description of how these two felt about each other. Alec played off his interest as a playboy might: any woman at anytime could be his focus. Except, Pride felt ,that even when he was pouring his particular charm on her, he was only doing it because he didn't know how to turn those talents on Max. It was easier to simply wind her up in an effort to interact with her. As for Max, she seemed torn between wanting to suture his lips together so he would shut up and wanting to use her own lips to stop him from talking. As it was, their leader was looking at Alec so hungrily, Pride couldn't help but think of a like a lioness stalking her prey.

"So I guess you won't be throwing me a welcome home party and wet T-shirt contest like I hoped?" he asked.

Max rolled her eyes at the suggestion then glared furiously at him.

"Best if you call it an early night, Defender of the People, before you end up needing more than just a few stitches," she said tartly then walked quickly out of the room, leaving Alec smarting from her cold tone and earlier assault.

"That's good advice—you should take it," Pride said, leaving the patient to put his shirt back on without assistance as he stood in the exam area alone. "That cut should be fully healed in a day or two. Show yourself out, sweet cheeks."

Alec nodded and massaged the throbbing area on his chest where Max's elbow placed a dent. He winced then shook his head as he drew a painful breath.

"See both of you lovely and vicious ladies later," he called hoarsely after them. "We can talk, maybe have a cage fight and then grab a movie at my place and see where that leads us. What do you say?"

"Girls sure do like hitting you, sir," Bugler observed. "Why?"

"It's because I'm handsome, and they can't keep their hands to themselves," Alec replied using the child as a brace to stand upright again. "You'll understand it better when you're older… taller... and less nice. Trust me. Now, go get my coffee."

He carefully pulled on his shirt then ran his hand carelessly through his mussed hair while wearing a wide grin that, if Max could see it, would earn him a desperately hard smack to the back of his head.

Bugler nodded to him and raced down the hall to join the departing women. He fixed himself between the two of them and spoke loudly to Pride.

"Don't worry about any of that," Bugler said to Pride. "That's just how Alec talks. I think he only picks on people he likes. He picks on me all the time. Max, too, of course, but when he picks on her, it's different because she's special to him."

"Bugler," Alec snapped. The child stopped in mid-step and turned to offer him a gleeful face. "Yes, sir?"

"How old are you?" he asked tensely.

"Nine," he replied.

"You wanna live to see 10?" he asked. The boy nodded. "Then shut up."

Bugler looked at him uncertainly then nodded and ducked his head. He turned on his heel and hurried down the corridor. He wasn't certain if Alec was truly mad, but experience told him even if he was, he wouldn't be the next time he saw him. Therefore, he figured if he hurried away, the trouble would fade faster. Alec never seemed to stay mad for long.

"I friggin' hate kids," Alec growled to himself.

Once his shirt was on again and he noted there was no one else in sick bay to talk to, Alec started down the corridor. He wasn't kidding about feeling eager to speak English again. Russian wasn't nearly as fun. He was certainly fluent, but it was such a heavy and somber language. Depressing, really, much like the weather in that country. Seattle might be dreary and gray fairly often, but it was a hell of a lot lighter and relaxed than the far reaches of Siberia.

Shaking his head and resigning himself to a quiet night back in the toxic dump they called home, he started down the hall. He shuffled down the hall shaking his head at another failure of an evening. He did not intend to see Max so soon after returning. He knew he was still grubby and disheveled from his travels and extended stay in a country that thought the beet was an acceptable mainstay of the diet.

The thought of food made his stomach twist. He wasn't kidding when he told Max he was starving. Keeping his objective strong enough to make the long journey across the Pacific meant sacrificing his own needs. While a transgenic could go longer without eating than a regular human being, that did not mean they didn't suffer similarly. In fact, he suspected a transgenics suffered more as their metabolism was so much higher to maintain their superior strength, skills and healing capacity. He was pretty sure Max would not let that termite Bugler bring him coffee (or anything else), and Alec did not have the energy to go foraging through the mess hall at that moment. Sleep seemed like the best plan. It was no five-star hotel, but at least his room in TC was dry and had running water. His plan, he decided, was to go to his room on the top floor of Building Four (assuming Max hadn't assigned his prime real estate to someone else in his extended absence) and drop into a mild coma for a few hours. He also hoped, probably foolishly he knew, that his TV and furniture were still there. As long as he had a pillow, though, he would be satisfied. He could round of the rest of his stuff in the coming days if it had grown legs and wandered into other quarters.

His senses were sufficiently dulled by lack of sleep and sustenance and his thoughts were on re-staking his claim to his belongings that he never heard his assailant approach. Alec was taken completely by surprise when he was grabbed roughly from behind then spun around in the darkened hallway.

"What the…," Alec yelped finding himself gripped by someone with the strength and force of a metal compactor.

He struggled for a split second, ready to head butt then throw a sleeper hold on whatever was trying to subdue him when the friendly, throaty growl that sounded like a sorrow-filled keening met his ears. He stopped struggling in that moment. The fibers of a paint spattered flannel shirt were ground into his face as his body was crush in a powerful hug that lifted him off his feet and left his legs dangling a few inches above the floor.

"Joshua," Alec gasped.

"Alec," the transhumant panted gleefully.

"Buddy," Alec croaked out of the side of his face, which was smooshed deeply and unwillingly into the dogman's chest. "Ease up. I'm gonna get a hairball here."

"Sorry," Joshua said as he released him and placed him on the floor gently. His paw-like hands reached forward and stroked Alec's head and face the way one would greet a beloved pet. "Alec home."

"Yeah, I'm back," he replied, clapping the immense man on the arm. "Miss me?"

"Alec never said goodbye," Joshua sniffled but grinned. "No need. Alec come home."

"Yeah, home," he nodded and started walking toward the exit sign. "Hey, any chance you can give me the skinny on my digs? Who bogarted my stuff?"

"No bogart," Joshua shook his head. "Max closed door. No one go in."

"No one?" he asked then grimaced. "No one at all? Well, I'll have to toss the fridge. Could be something growing in there by now that could give the Manticore freezers a run for their money."

"No one but Max," he said. "And Joshua."

"You looked after my place?" Alec nodded appreciatively. "Thanks."

"Joshua look after Max," he replied shaking his head. "Max waiting for Alec. Wanted him home."

"To yell at me, ground me and kick my ass," he nodded. "Yeah, I got the welcome home speech and lovely gifts."

He rubbed his sternum again but smiled unconsciously at the memory and the thought that she had put some protection over his stuff. His rooms on the fourth floor weren't the best place he'd ever lived, but when he first departed, the two rooms he called his own were starting to feel lived in and familiar to him.

"Max missed Alec," Joshua said as he followed him down the hall then out of the building into the light evening rain as they crossed the alleyway to Building Four.

"No one else to blame for everything," Alec mused as he entered the building in the hush of the night and climbed the stairs.

Joshua was close behind, taking the stairs several at a time with this steady, loping gait. They entered the darkened quarters and Alec snapped on the single bare bulb that hung from the ceiling and cast an anemic light on the dingy setting. The walls were dun colored and pock-marked with holes where frames and shelves may have hung years ago. The floor was scarred, poor quality ceramic tiles that were a dingy gray color. The room was rectangular and without windows. It may have once been a small reception area for a low level manager. Beyond it was a another room with a bank of grimy windows and an attached bathroom. Alec peaked eagerly into his bedroom and was glad to note none of the windows were broken and there was no obvious signs of a rat infestation. He also saw, gratefully, that his bed was still there complete with blankets and a pillow. This was a promising sign he thought while fighting a yawn.

What interested him more, however, was the metal cabinet at the far end of the sitting room. He walked determinedly to it and bowed his head briefly before wrenching open the doors. He sighed quickly with relief at what appeared before him.

"There you are," he said warmly and approached the silent TV and stroked the top of it. "You look lonely, baby. Miss me?"

"No boobs on tube while Alec gone," Joshua nodded and chuckled at his play on words.

"So Maxie doesn't watch porn," he mumbled softly. "Go figure."

"Little Fellah not watch TV," Joshua informed him. "Sit here missing Alec. Same when looking at painting."

"What painting?" Alec asked, looking around but seeing no art work on the sad and empty walls. "You painted something for me?"

"Not for you," Joshua said shyly and ground his foot into the scuffed floor as he sank his head deep into his shoulders. "Of you."

"You painted a picture of me?" he asked warily but feeling oddly flattered. "Was it one of your typical splash affairs, or did you do a nude of me? Swear to me that Normal will never get his hands on it."

"Painted what is here," Joshua said, stepping forward and first cupping the side of Alec's head then placed his palm flat on his chest. "And what is here. All of this is Alec."

"So, one of your flailing arm frenzies," he nodded and rolled his eyes. "Great. Bet it looks just like me."

"Actually, it does," Max answered from the door way. "Better than you, in fact."

She leaned on the doorframe with her arms folded. She had left the triage area because seeing and hearing him behaving as though he had not been gone at all was too much. She needed to step away and compose herself for a few minutes; she wasn't sure how she might react as emotions crashed into one another in her heart and head. She feared she might yell at him for being and ass or she might suddenly feel tears streaking down her cheeks as confusing and powerful feelings boiled over in her chest.

She had missed him. She wasn't afraid to admit that—at least to herself. He, however, was acting like being gone for so long was nothing at all. That bothered her, hurt her, as much as the fresh comments he was lobbing at Pride in an effort to have a private welcome home party with her in his quarters. What bothered Max further was how much the thought of Alec and Pride, or Alec and Cactus, or Alec and anyone else together this bothered her.

From across the room, he watched with interest as she wrestled with some inner decision. The pinched and slightly displeased look she wore on her face so often was present, but there was something else in her posture, something more uncertain. Still, her overall demeanor was one of aggravation. It amazed him how, despite being half a foot shorter than him, she managed to still look down her nose at him with such ease.

"If it's that good looking then maybe we should sell the painting to Joshua's art fans," Alec offered, rocking on his heels and meeting her disgruntled gaze. "We could use a huge infusion of cash about now, I'll bet."

"No," Joshua said. "No sell. Gift. Joshua give to Max. Feel better. Help her remember Alec."

"And here I was thinking I was unforgettable," he smirked without taking his eyes off hers.

He wasn't sure what was bothering her at the moment. She was staring at him with a muddled but mildly angry expression. He hadn't, as far as he knew, done anything to piss her off recently. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't blaming him for something all the same, he reminded himself.

"You here to beat me up some more, or are we done with the foreplay for tonight?" Alec asked.

Sensing the brewing storm, Joshua looked between the two of them staring at each other, like predators sizing up their opponents. He ducked his head and wandered out, muttering about not wanting to see them get reacquainted through shouts or a fistfight. Max left the door open as she walked, arms still tightly folded, into the room with her face directed at the floor. Alec leaned cautiously on the wall near his bedroom and surveyed her with renewed interest.

Her dark and normally sharp eyes looked dull and a bit tired. Her cheeks were a little sunken and her skin was of its normal pale amber shade and more simply pale. There was a tightness in her shoulders and back that put a kink in her normally slinky and graceful movements.

"What's wrong?" he asked plainly.

She kept her eyes downward for a moment, unsure what to say. It didn't seem real, having him back in this room, standing in front of her again, healthy and in one piece. She did not have all the details from Logan's report of Alec's time away. She knew it wasn't all a party, but it wasn't all suffering and anguish either. In fact, from what little Logan had reported a few days earlier, it was sounding like long night at Crash. The tale so far involved a series of bartering ventures, possibly the establishment of a rudimentary club run out of a dilapidated hovel that profited from the sin and spare coins and goods the people in that desolate region could spare and apparently was going to culminating with a secret escape back to Seattle.

"I should have never let you go," she said, looking at him firmly.

"I didn't sink the boat, Max," he said defensively. "Okay? This wasn't some side deal of mine that went south. I didn't drag my feet to find your medicine woman, either. I didn't take a break on company time just so I could get out of all the fun and games you've got going here. I didn't even smuggle in any artifacts or valuables that I can fence for a few extra Benjamins. I swear. I did what you needed me to do. Objective is accomplished, to the letter, with no addendums to the report. So whatever complaint you want to lodge…"

"I thought you died," she said calmly.

"What?" he shook his head.

Said plainly like that, to him standing back in his quarters, she realized did seem absurd. She was no longer sure why it had bothered her so. Alec was like one of those blow up kids' toys that you could punch in the face, knocking it to the ground, and it would stand up again like nothing happened.

"The ship you were on sank, and there were no survivors," she said. "Or so we thought. We thought you died."

"Oh," he said unsure how to respond. "Well, I didn't."

"I… we didn't know that for a while," she said. "People were… upset."

"Upset?" he repeated.

"Yeah, like, sad," she said evasively.

"People?" he questioned.

"Yeah, people," she said agitatedly. "Like… like the people who know you."

"Like Bugler and Joshua people?" he asked. Max nodded. "Anyone else?"

"Normal broke down and still hasn't stopped crying," she quipped.

"How 'bout you?" he asked.

He looked at her sincerely. There was genuine interest in his eyes. They gazed at her softly yet intently, searching for some answer to a question he had not directly posed.

"What about me?" she shrugged.

"Are you people?" he asked. "Were you… upset?"

She shrugged and made noncommittal noises in her throat.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he sighed, reminding himself to watch his tone because he was tired and hungry which usually made him cranky. "I mean, with me gone, who would bring the key to your love life's salvation to our sunny shores. Glad I can keep your hope alive. You're welcome, by the way."

"Why are you being such a jerk?" she scoffed loudly. "I came here to tell you…"

"You came to sick bay to hit me and now you're standing my room yelling at me," he observed.

"Well, you're an ass," she said hotly. "I wasn't looking for a fight, but you're… Uh."

Max shook her head and clenched her jaw. She took a deep breath to calm herself as the jittery feelings filled he stomach again. She turned her eyes toward the floor again, unable to look at him.

"I should have never let you go," she said. "That's… I just wanted you to know that, I wished, when I thought I'd lost you, that I had never let you go."

_There_, she thought, _I said._ _ Just like Cindy advised. Now, it's over and I can move on. Things can go back to… whatever they were before… whatever they should be. I guess._

As she tried to convince herself she should feel relief at taming the tiger in her chest, Alec was silently reflecting on what he heard. Her choice of words stirred in his minds. He heard them echo: _I wished... Lost you... Never let you go... _

"Max, I…," he began but stopped himself before he said anything more.

He needed to think this through more rather than simply react on feeling and instinct—something Max herself often told him resulted in his worst decisions. He paused and considered their situation in light of their regular interactions and their conversations that evening. It didn't add up. He realized he shouldn't take her words as anything more than her normal guilt binge. She thought he died. Of course, she would blame herself and sound sad about it. That was what Max did. Made everything her fault because she couldn't save everyone.

"I wasn't there under orders and it wasn't your choice whether I went or not," he replied hoping to absolve her of any linger pangs. "I do what I please, you know that. I'm not your prisoner. Now, if you want to change that and put handcuffs on me, I could suggest a few games we might consider playing, and we could…"

"Stop it," she snapped raising her hands to cover her ears against the latest onslaught of half-hearted sexual advances.

"Stop what?" he asked, dumbfounded by her tone and the sudden sense that she was on the verge of tears. "This is what we do, Max. This is our thing."

"I'm not in the mood for your 'it's all a game or a joke' tonight," she said tensely. "I'm trying to tell you that… people were… You matter to… us… and it hurt, a lot, to think you weren't coming back. So could you just deep six the playboy act for just a few minutes, Alec?"

He cocked his head to the side and noted that she still would not make eye contact. This concerned him because it meant something was worrying her. Max was a guilt glutton for certain. She blamed herself for nearly everything she could—he blamed some of that sorrow junkie behavior on her love squeeze Logan and his unending crusade to save everyone from everything—but this seemed deeper than simply feeling bad that his own homecoming got delayed a few months. She appeared to be suffering under some immense anguish. After a moment, he suspect he knew what it was.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Max," he assured her. "It was a long trip and the doc's not a young vixen, but my girl Sveta is a tough old bird. Trust me on that. She'll be up and working in no time. Take a chill and get some rest. She'll get you your cure soon enough."

He approached her and sighed in a sad but still contented way. He did what he said he would. He found her the answer she desperately wanted. He brought back the key to giving her a life, a chance at one anyway. The strains of command were wearing on her, he could see that. She was a leader, a natural and smart one, but her training didn't prepare her for the discipline required to run what was, despite her claim to their freedom and individuality, a military operation. She left Manticore too soon and was deprived of some of the most vital training the provided to their alpha leaders. Alec knew he was not a leader, not alike she was, anyway.

Certainly, he knew how to run a unit and provide training and make strategic decision, but his nature was not to be the front man in a large operation. He was bred and trained to work alone, through stealth and deception, using cunning and guile. He had plenty of schooling in military tactics. He was raised as part of a unit and knew how to instill order and provide structure using discipline if needed. He wasn't interested in taking her spot, wasn't even sure he could given his reputation, but if it meant letting her make a break for it so she and Logan could disappear together, he'd make the offer. He would sacrifice what little freedom he had and see through to the end what she started for as long as his fellow Manticore creations would let him, or until they all died. Whichever came first. It wouldn't be the same without Max there, but she would be safe, and she would finally be happy. That meant more to him.

He swallowed hard as he stepped toward her then rubbed her arm comfortingly. He was glad to do it, despite the stabs of pain it sent into his heart. He felt that intoxicating surge from touching her which was both painful and delightful in the same instant.

"This time next year, you and Logan will probably be talking about weddings or baby names," he offered in as light a tone as he could manage considering the lump of regret swelling in his throat. "Stop worrying so much, Maxie. It'll be okay."

He worried for a moment that she felt the tremors in his hand, the ones that felt directly connected to the shivers of loss he felt in his chest when she suddenly moved toward him. He was tired and got caught unexpectedly. He moved his hands up a millisecond too late to block her assault but realized quickly that his defensive pose was not needed.

Alec froze as he realized Max was hugging him, tightly and intensely. He could feel her tremble as she pressed close to him. He faltered for a second, unsure what to do then simply wrapped his arms around her in confusion as she buried her face in his shoulder. He held her, gratefully and gleefully, for several moments. She felt warm and inviting. Thoughts of doing more than simply hugging her, of whisking her away to the next room, were strong, but he fought them with all the strength his weary body possessed. Instead, as the terrible, dry lump grew sharper in his throat making his voice more husky, he asked her to explain.

"Max?" he asked quietly. "You okay? What's wrong? What's going on?"

She said nothing. Instead she focused on her breathing, keeping it steady as she felt her heart pound traitorously against her ribs. Not that she could claim a sense of composure or calm in that instant. She knew she needed to let go and end this, but her arms remained locked in place. She could feel the heat from his body radiating through her clothing and caressing her skin and seeping into her. She felt the tension and agony of the previous, worry-filled weeks leach from her bones. The knots in her muscles relaxed and she felt, for the first time in a long time, a bit sleepy, which was so very different from feeling simply weary. When Alec leaned his chin against her head and stroked her hair briefly, she shivered and realized things were beyond the awkward moment when she admitted she missed him during his absence.

"Hey, you still with me, or did I lose you?" Alec asked softly, hugging her tighter as he felt her body go slightly limp.

"What?" she asked, lurching out of her peaceful state. She pushed him away and snapped back into her edgy posture and glaring at him accusingly.

"What was that about?" he asked, as the hint of an amused grin danced behind his limpid green eyes.

"What was what?" she repeated. "I was just… You know." She shrugged and threw a soft, platonic jab at his shoulder. "Welcoming you back. Don't… get on any more sinking ships, is all I'm saying, okay?"

"Guess some of that got lost in translation," he remarked, still sporting a quizzical expression.

"Maybe you've just been thinking and speaking Russian too long," she offered causally then turned to leave. She paused briefly at the door. "Just so we're clear: You're not sleeping until noon tomorrow. I don't care what time zone your ass thinks it is. Be in the control room by 7 or I'll have Mole come up here and drag you down there."

"Will you be there at that hour or are you still running on your Jam Pony schedule of 'whenever the hell I get around to showing up'?" Alec asked.

She threw him a filthy look that raised a grin on his lips this time.

"So, 10 o'clock it is," he beamed at her. "Gotcha. You sleep well tonight, Maxie."

He winked at her then pivoted gracefully on his heel and entered his darkened bedroom alone.

**# # # #**

Feeling jittery and agitated, Max plodded back to her office. Sleep, she realized, would be necessary and nice. Her bed was beckoning her strongly, but she needed to check in with Logan first. She presumed, from Alec's arrival and short report, that Logan must be looking after the good doctor. It took a few minutes to for him to respond to her message to contact her. When he did, he looked harried and delighted at the same time. Sector cops were the cause for the first emotion.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't get call you earlier," Logan apologized. "The cops have been nosing around so I wanted to keep things quiet a little longer. They've been doing "safety checks" on a lot of houses lately. They claimed they're receiving complaints about weird noises and are just checking the neighborhood for stray and dangerous animals."

"Which is cheap slang for anything sporting a barcode," Max scoffed angrily.

"I know," Logan sighed understandingly. "Luckily, I got Svetlana tucked away out of their reach for now."

"Svetlana?" she repeated. "That's Dr. Brezhenski?"

"It is," he nodded . "I've got her resting at the Broadhurst Clinic over on Gainesville Avenue."

"Why?" Max asked. "Is she hurt?"

"No, she's not," Logan reported. "She is, however, exhausted and a little banged up from a less than luxury-style cruise across the Pacific. I mean, she's 76 years old and not in the greatest health for that reason alone. Those Siberian winters take a lot out of you. It was a long and hard trip stowing away on a Filipino fruit boat."

"Why didn't you tell me they were on their way?" Max asked. Not that she could have assisted in anyway, but they did have an agreement that Logan would keep her in the loop. She looked at him with accusing eyes.

"Well, I would have if I had known," Logan replied. "This wasn't my plan, Max. It looks a lot like what I was trying to set up, but the ship I had picked doesn't leave Russia for another eight days. This was all Alec's doing."

Max closed her eyes and shook her head. Of course it was. He'd gotten antsy and took matters into his own hands because the mission was over. He saw no reason to wait for orders when he could easily get them out his way on his own schedule. Mr. Improvise. She shook her head; she couldn't be mad at him—that trait was one of the reasons he was a good fit for the operation.

"I'll give Alec this, he is an escape artist," Logan continued. "The doctor didn't have many complaints—at least about him. I mean, her English is a little rough right now; I'm thinking it's fatigue, but she seemed pleased to be here. She wants to help us, Max. I think in a few days, she'll be able to give us some answers."

"You think she can cure this thing?" Max asked. She didn't dare believe it. This was the point when things usually came crashing down around them. Hope, she knew, was a sharp and dangerous object to hold.

"I think she can tell us if she can," Logan replied cautiously. He saw the flat look in Max's eyes then sighed. "I don't want to get my hopes up either, but, yeah. In my gut, I think maybe she can. Alec say anything?"

"When doesn't Alec have something to say," Max scoffed. "But if you mean about your doctor lady, not much. Said she's a tough old bird and called her Sveta, like she's an ex-girlfriend."

Max rolled her eyes and shook her head. Logan chuckled and caught her inquisitive gaze. He shrugged and explained.

"Trans-ocean intrigue and germ warfare aren't in this lady's daily routine," he said. "She's a little shy, skittish, actually, not to mention rather old. I wouldn't exactly call her Alec's type."

Max shook her head then buried her face in her hands. Great, she thought, their last hope and Alec kidnapped and probably half terrified the old woman. They needed a brilliant scientist, and he had brought them a frail hostage.

"She too freaked out from being kidnapped to whip up a genius cure?" she wondered.

"No, the exact opposite, I think," Logan reported happily. "She seemed kind of excited about their adventure. You know, if I not for the age and her looks, I'd swear Alec seduced her to get her to do this. I am certain there was definite strategic flirting that got the ball rolling."

"So what?" Max asked with a wrinkled nose and narrowed eyes. "You approve of Alec all of a sudden?"

"No, I wouldn't go that far, but I will admit, he did god here," Logan beamed. "I think the guy's charm is pretty slimy most of the time, but some women do fall for it. It's a question of personal taste and respect, in my opinion. But for this, I have no complaints. Look, I don't speak Russian so I don't know what he was saying to her when he walked down the dock, but she was… grinning widely."

Max snorted as she pictured the sight. It was hard to do. She had watch a lot of women, all young, provocative and nubile, shiver at his tired compliments and sly smiles. Seeing him turn the skills on someone old enough to be a grandmother would have been entertaining. She shook her head with the realization that the man's shame knew no bounds and said as much to Logan.

"Yeah, it was not a sight I expected," Logan continued. "A respected and brilliant Russian chemist and geneticist, hobbling along grinning and giggling like a freshman sorority pledge arm-in-arm with your soldier of fortune. Then again, I've never understood anyone woman who responds to Alec, but she has been stuck in Siberia for more than a decade with nothing to keep her company except distant Mongols and stray yaks. Guess he was a step up."

"Yeah, well, he claims he has a way with woman," Max rolled her eyes and hoped her voice sound normal considering the tightness she felt in her throat. It first appeared when she choked back a surprising sob while being held in Alec's arms in his quarters.

"I've only heard the rumors," Logan said, looking carefully at the monitor.

Max looked up guiltily. Logan saw this and regarded at her carefully. She appeared a little out of sorts. It was hard to be certain, the resolution on his monitor wasn't optimal and the connection a bit jumbled by static. She was tired, that he knew. He saw her face-to-face a few days earlier when he reported the plan to extract Alec and his companion would commence within two week's time. Logan was arranging for them to leave Russia through the port at Ternej. He hadn't nailed down all the details at that point, but he was close. He knew only that Alec would board the ship with a companion and that both held papers showing they were family. Logan knew the plan had holes in it, but he had faith it would prove successful. Therefore, he was shocked to receive a call that evening from the payphone outside the harbor master's office. The voice on the end was Alec's, and it ordered Logan to get some wheels and some money and sector passes to the docks that hour. Logan decided to wait until he saw the stowaways before making plans to call Max.

The call never got made, however, as he and Alec thought it best to get the doctor some place safe and comfortable first. While Logan made arrangements to move her one sector west, Alec disappeared. Actually, Logan now knew after hacking into police hover cams, Alec waited until Logan and the doctor left the abandoned warehouse that was their rendezvous point then tailed them for a while until he felt they hadn't been followed by sector cops, federal troops or White's fanatical following. Once sure of their safety, he headed back to the TC. Logan didn't bother to provide Max with that detail. Alec doing the right thing was rare, but he saw no reason to mention it. Max had been oddly jittery whenever Alec came up in conversation lately and it bothered Logan.

That night's conversation contained the same odd and awkward pauses and moments around the subject of Alec, Logan noted. His girlfriend was quieter than he expected and her expression distant. Logan wasn't sure if it was relief that their long-awaited answer may have arrived, fear that her hopes would be dashed if this doctor only tagged along to get out of Siberia or if there was something else entirely going on. What that might be also worried Logan and the fact that Alec was back on this side of the Pacific, back at TC specifically, was not lost on him. Things had been odd between Logan and Max since before the siege and anytime Alec was in the mix it always got worse. They grew tenser once Max was stationed inside TC, but once Alec left, that's when things felt truly estranged.

Logan wasn't sure why that was. Alec presence was often one of the roots of their tension; he riled Max up without even trying and was a constant source of anger and worry for her. It stood to reason that his removal from their immediate vicinity should have solved that problem, but somehow it only made it worse. Logan wondered, much as he had since discovering she lied about a relationship with Alec, if perhaps the male transgenic wasn't the problem but rather a convenient excuse for Max to use to mask some other issue.

"I think we can stop worrying now," he said encouragingly. "I'll be checking on Dr. Brezhenski in the morning and have an update for you. I feel good about this, Max. I do. We're gonna beat this thing this time. I really think we can."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Good."

**# # # #**

Max made her way back to Building Four just after 11 p.m.. She entered her quarters on the third floor and dropped into the threadbare chair in the corner. She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them and bowed her head. Soft yet persistent rain drops pecked at the grimy windowpane lulling her senses. She drew a deep breath and was sudden overwhelmed by an unexpected sensation.

She felt warm, warmer than her normal 100 plus degree body temperature. She could feel the heat radiating into her chest and two strong bands of it pressing into her back. The hold was firm and reassuring. She melted into it, afraid to open her eyes. She didn't want to see or hear anything other than the steady and powerful thump of the heart beat she could feel matching her own. The tension evaporated from her limbs and the perpetual knot in her stomach relaxed as she inhaled the intoxicating scent. It was slightly sweet, like a fresh apple, and slightly musky. She held on more tightly and heard herself whisper: Alec.

Max gasped suddenly and snapped her head up from her knees. Harried and panting, she looked around the empty room with a startled expression. Her heart was pounding and her skin felt hot and sweaty. Her frantic eyes caught the face of her watch: 11:30. She forced herself to take a deep breath then shook her head.

She'd fallen asleep. She had been dreaming.

_Had she actually said his name aloud? Or was that part of the dream? And why was she dreaming about Alec at all? _

Frustrated and jittery, she stalked over to her bed and drew down the covers. She raked her fingers through her hair and stripped off her top layer of clothing. Her cargo pants were sent into a rumbled ball at her feet. Her pull over made it over her head and halfway off her wrists when the scent grabbed her again. She gripped the shirt tightly and pulled it back toward her face and sniffed it. Her heart tripped and stumbled over its normal rhythm with excitement and giddy pleasure. It wasn't the only part of her feeling an electric charge. Other parts of her tingled and shivered as well.

Max stood beside her bed wearing only her tank top and her suddenly moist panties; the room was warm and the air thick and heavy with oppressive humidity. She pressed her face into the cloth and drew a deep and satisfying breath. She felt the tension in her limbs and the knot in her stomach relax again. For a moment, she felt as if as if the warmth from his body was against hers again and, despite the stifling temperature of the room, she liked it. She quivered as a low, satisfied sound, halfway between a moan and a purr, emanated from her throat.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she pulled the garment away and stared at it blankly. She felt confused and guilty about the pleasure the scent brought her.

_Girl, you must be exhausted because that is just crazy_, she thought as she carefully folded it. _It's a shirt with an odor. Maybe it smells like Alec, or maybe it smells like something he was near. It could be that it just because it smells like something other than the air in this toxic dump we have to call home. Like maybe it smells like the freedom of fresh, salty sea air. That's possible. He spent all that time on a boat getting back here, didn't he? So, whatever it is, there's nothing wrong with it._

She continued to convince herself as she placed her shirt on her pillow then laid her head on it. She inhaled deeply and smiled easily and naturally as she did so.

_Nothing wrong with a little aroma therapy. Rich women pay a fortune for crappy soaps and overpriced oils to do this all the time. It's not cheating or wrong because I like how my shirt smells. It's my shirt after all. It's not like I'm inviting Alec to bed. This is totally innocent._

By the time the dawn peeked into Max's room, it no longer felt all that innocent.

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N:** Still more to come, but the next installments won't be as quick as the first 3 chapters. Also, just as a warning: I don't write porn so if you're hoping to read any sloppy, wet, graphic trans-on-trans sex scenes in this story, you will be highly disappointed. Remember, it's romance genre not trash. For those who follow this literary reference, you can expect some bits of Love in the Time of Transgenics action, but don't expect 50 Shades of Alec and Max.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 4)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: I got busted by my publicist about doing this free writing, but the overwhelming positive response I've received from readers has made me a writer on a mission. No one has taken a Louisville Slugger to my WiFi connection yet as I convinced my handlers that fanfic readers care about good stories/writing not just the characters from TV shows. I swore I could prove it by putting my novel info on my profile page thus (hopefully) generating interest in my professional writing. Help a girl out and prove me right… pretty please. Otherwise, I fear my publicist will put a hoodoo hex on me so I can't type the letters A-L-E-C or M-A-X in a sentence. _Allons-y! [UPDATED FOR FORMATTING ISSUE]_

**# # # #**

Max jerked awake in the dreary gray morning light dribbling into her room from the filmy window above her bed. Whether it was typical fog, misting or the window was just that dirty from the terrible air quality lately she didn't know. Nor did she care. There were greater problems on her mind.

"Damn it," she moaned softly as she stared at the ceiling with a scowl. "Why now?"

Her sleep had been anxious and fitful. Powerful and confusing dreams wracked her brain all night. What she had hoped would be her first restful sleep in many, many weeks had morphed into a tossing and turning affair that jarred her from slumber every other hour. Each time, she felt disoriented and breathless. She felt feverish and sweat dampened her body and sheets. The dreams that poked at her rest were different than those which normally pervaded her sleep. Those, the ones she considered nightmares, had always been about being chased. Whether it was by the guards at Manticore, her fellow transgenics, the cops, the military or White's entourage, she was always the prey forced to run and hide.

But these dreams were different. In them, she was pursuing. There was something she was seeking, someone, she suspected as she tried to recall the flashing images fading in her mind. She had the feeling she'd had some of the dream before, which in itself seemed odd as she did not sleep enough to have recurring dreams. This one did, however, feel familiar. She was looking for someone or something she lost. During it, she had the overwhelming feeling that her target was just out of reach in the next room or down the next hallway. She would race to find it only to arrive and find the room empty; all that remained was a feeling, something prickling in her heightened senses, that convinced her she was close to her quarry. The urge spurred her onward to one final room each time. Each time as she opened the door, she knew someone was standing there, but she woke just before she could identify the person.

Now, laying silently in her bed fully awake, she was able to diagnose part of the cause for the edgy feeling. It did not normally impact her sleep, but, she reasoned, she'd never quite been under this level of stress before either. The more she thought about the previous 10 hours, more it seemed obvious. Her jittery feelings, the restlessness, her unexpected arousal at the scent of a man and her emotional outburst in Alec's room all added up to one thing: Heat.

It was never pleasant and the best thing that could be said for it was that it only occurred three times per year and only lasted about three days. Still, nine days of feeling like she did not have complete control of her faculties was aggravating and unnerving. Her first thought, after identifying the issue, was disappointment. She was supposed to see Logan this day and meet Dr. Brezhenski. That was now off her schedule.

It wasn't that Max lost control of her mind during heat. It was that she knew her decisional abilities—those around and involving men—were impaired. She was generally pretty good about keeping her head, but there had been slips in the past. She couldn't afford that. The slightest inclination to even rub her hand across Logan's arm could kill him. That was a sobering thought that thrust her out of bed. She dressed hastily and headed toward the command post. She could reorganize her day, and the next two, if she got a quick start on things. Keeping busy with mundane tasks, particularly those that did not require in-person meetings or prolonged contact with anyone was the best mitigation measure she knew.

Max arrived at the nerve center for TC to find Joshua waiting patiently for her. He was smiling in a way he had not in many weeks. There were colorful paint flecks in his long locks, which was in contrast to the splotches and streaks of black and gray he had sported most recently.

"You paint the rainbow this morning, Big Fellah?" Max asked him, glad for whatever quirk in her genes did not make her see her good friend as a target for her amorous urges.

"Inspired, Little Fellah," he beamed. "Painted all night. New world today."

"No kidding," she sighed and walked into the area that served as her office and a general planning room for the complex. "Did you need something?"

"Make sure Max okay," Joshua said. "You happy?"

"Happy?" she looked at him. "I guess. I mean I'm not mad. Why?"

"Alec home," Joshua nodded gleefully. "Happy to see Alec."

"Alec?" she repeated.

Max swallowed hard as one of her slippery memories from dreamland flashed before her eyes. This was the room, she realized, this office was the final room she had seen in her dreams. The last shot before waking had been this room and the person standing in it had been Alec. She felt her face grow warm as she could again see him standing there, offering her that unassuming smile—his actual smile rather than his practiced 'I'm scamming your right now' charming and smarmy smirk. She knew the difference in the two expression quite well. The professional one she saw often, and it usually enraged her on some level. The other was more scarce; it was only present when his guard was down (which was nearly never) and when he wasn't up to something (which was even rarer than his unguarded moments). It was a pretty smile, contagious in fact, and in some ways made him more mysterious and charming than all of his suave moves and finely tuned pick up lines. Remembering it from the dream and other times she saw it for real started the wriggling jitters in her stomach again.

"Alec be here soon," Joshua nodded. "Tell story of Russia. Promised Joshua long story."

The transhuman's excitement was obvious. If he had a tail, it would be wagging with such speed it would be a swirling blur. Max looked at the clock. It was nearly 7. She didn't seriously think Alec would follow her precise orders and arrive at the time ordered, but seeing him in this state was not wise. She was even more convinced as she looked up and realized some part of her was hopeful he would be standing in the doorway. She shook her head firmly and turned toward the door.

"You okay, Little Fellah?" Joshua asked, placing a worried hand on her arm. "Eyes look funny."

Max shook her head. If her pupils were either contracting or dilating to the point Joshua was noticing, it was not a good sign. Max informed him she was fine and made an excuse to leave. Her legs took her swiftly through the command center and across an abandoned parking bay into Building Two where the medical unit resided.

She arrived to find only Pride there. Max was glad. She did not want to broadcast her complaint to anyone. It was bad enough she had no control over the situation, but it was an added insult that it might now impact her ability to lead the transhumans and transgenics hunkered down at TC and looking to her for guidance.

"What can I do for you?" Pride asked eagerly. "Are you ill?"

She smiled broadly at the possibility and instantly slapped a thermo-strip on Max's forehead. Pride was bored and any opportunity to work was jumped at with great gusto. She initially volunteered to work in the medical unit because she believed that is where the most help would be needed. They were (allegedly) on the verge of a war, and she always excelled at field medicine at Manticore. In fact, when the compound fell, she was out on assignment posing as medical intern in Miami. It was her second outing as a healer. The first was a year earlier in which she was posted as a nurse in a convalescent home. That both assignments were to kill rather than heal was of no matter to her. She enjoyed learning about the care normal humans needed to cure illness and trauma. If their lives ever allowed them to integrate with general society, she felt she would adjust best working in a hospital.

Not that she got the chance to prove that. With no battles and nearly no ailments to occupy her time, she was left to inventory supplies and read up on medical procedures in the hopes that someday someone would contract a deadly illness or arrive at her desk with a severed limb or something equally exciting. She fixed Max with a beaming smile as she waited for an answer.

"Do you have anything here that will delay or stop a transgenic from going into heat?" Max asked, crossing her eyes a bit as she looked up at the temperature measuring gage so unceremoniously slapped on her.

"Here?" Pride shook her head. "Sorry. No. At Manticore there was…"

"Never mind what they had," Max cut her off. "Do you know of anything that can do it?"

"Yes, two things," Pride nodded, happy to have the answer. "Pregnancy and death."

Max groaned and hung her head. Those she knew. She was looking, she said, for other options.

"Sorry, but we don't really know a lot about the reproductive cycles of transgenics—transhumans either," Pride shrugged. "They put everyone on inhibitors at Manticore—even those in the breeding program. I mean, they ordered the partners to copulate and waited for positive results. Now that they aren't flooding us with the drugs anymore, it's kind of wild kingdom out there some days, isn't it?"

She spoke like a dispassionate observer. Max hung her head in defeat.

"I've actually begun studying it," Pride explained and began pulling up files on her computer. "As you know, the medical team has delivered a few offspring who were the result of the breeding program. Now that even the most long-term inhibitors have metabolized from our systems, I should have a lot more data and behavior I can study in the next few months. You're not the first to come in here asking for answers. Actually, I was thinking of asking you for some. After all, you spent a decade away from Manticore whereas most of us only have a year or so away. Your experiences at being without inhibitors since nearly the beginning of the maturity of your reproductive organs could be invaluable."

"Oh, it's something," Max grumbled as her mind raced for options. "Is there any reason to think the drugs a normal human woman uses to prevent conception would help a transgenic female?"

"Preventing pregnancy?" Pride wondered. "They might; stopping heat altogether, probably not, but I've never given it much thought. The idea is the same, but the dosing might be tricky to figure. I mean, Ordinaries take them for a monthly cycle whereas a transgenic is for a cycle that only repeats three times in a year. Are you finally having a meeting about Mole's concern we'll have a baby boom here shortly?"

Mole had begun grousing more than a month earlier about just that. Where his sudden fear and worry about the children of X-5s came from, she did not know. She also did not care to have the discussion. These were adults and capable of making their own choices. She had shot down one of her people on his bid to regulate the sexual activities of those at TC. She certainly did not want to hold weekly meetings herself to keep apprised of them.

"Because if you are, I should apologize," Pride continued. "It's my fault he's so adamant about no one touching anyone. He was doing a routine sweep of the area not long after I arrived and I didn't warn him about a patient who was here at the time. That girl with the short, spikey dark purple hair, Molly, was in here, following Tommy around because she was in heat. Tommy knew it and was smart enough to lock himself in the supply closet for a bit. Mole came through and Molly sort of turned her sights on him for a bit. She stalked him for the next 24 hours and it creeped him out. He's been anti-female transgenic ever since."

"He actually wasn't much of a fan before hand," Max shook her head, glad for the information but not feeling it helped her with her problem any.

Locking herself in a supply closet might be a good idea, she thought, but she knew herself too well. She'd find a way out. Escape and evade were her specialties. What she needed, she knew, was someone to watch over her and keep her from doing something stupid. The person she trusted most to do that was Original Cindy, but she could not stay at TC due to the toxicity of the place. Max could not leave TC for extended periods as she was in charge and, while the transgenics were not being as actively or openly hunted at the moment, the risk of a public altercation was too high for her. Logan was doing some high level negotiations with people who could make their lives much easier. She did not want to put the fate of her people in jeopardy simply because she was having itches and urges.

"You know," Pride continued, apparently pursuing the conversation while Max was stuck in her own head, "you may be on to something with the meds Ordinaries take. With a little study and experimentation, I might be able to come up with something we could use or at least determine a dosing regimen of the drugs the Ordinaries us that would be useful to us."

"Sure," Max said as she sat dejectedly on the edge of the desk.

Pride looked up from her typing to observe Max's expression and the strip on her forehead. She pulled it off and noted the findings.

"Well, you're not running a temperature," Pride said disappointedly. "So no fever for you, and obviously, you're not in heat."

"Yeah, I am," Max disagreed.

"No, you're not," Pride said, showing her the strip. "An X-5's body temperature increases 1.7 degrees during heat due to the hormone flux. Your temperature is actually .4 degrees lower than normal, which means you must have just had a lot of water recently."

"Uh, I did, because I felt all flush and thought…," Max began.

"Hmm," Pride said and began rifling through a box in the corner. She pulled out a cotton swab and held it up. "Can I rub you with this?"

Before waiting for an answer, she wiped Max's forehead and then neck with it. She then turned to a cabinet and pulled out several vials containing liquid. She busied herself for a few moments placing droplets on the cotton then turned to Max and shook her head.

"No, see, I'm right," she said, holding up the soggy, white cotton wad. "No pheromone secretions. You're not in heat. Did you say you felt flush?"

Pride felt her neck then peered into her irises, all the while shaking her head.

"Huh, interesting," she said firmly. "I'm not seeing anything off with you that would indicate heat. What were you doing just before this feeling occurred?"

"Sleeping," Max said. "I woke up feeling, you know, the way you feel with it starts. It happened last night, too."

"Maybe you're just tired and the air in your room was too hot," Pride said. Max looked at her maddeningly. Did she really think Max would mistake a lack of air conditioning with the heated, itchy and aroused state of heat?

"The air was stuffy, like it is every night, and yes I was tired, like I am every night," Max said. "The only difference last night was that I slept."

"The only difference?" Pride inquired. "You're sure there was absolutely nothing different last night?"

Max shook her head. She ate, like she normally did and what she normally did. She made rounds like she normally did. Okay, there was the unplanned stop in sick bay to confirm Alec was back… and the stop in his room to… say whatever it was that she felt she needed to day. Then it was her normal routine of going to her room and going to be. Okay, yes, there was the whole thing about her shirt having a scent to it, but if she wasn't in heat, what could any of that mean?

"Maybe something else is wrong with me," she said and looked at Pride with concern. "Check me for new marks or tattoos"

From the doorway came a low and pleased whistle. Max looked up suddenly to see Alec standing there wearing his smarmy grin. She clenched her jaw and glared back at him as he spoke.

"Ooo, free show," Alec said as he clapped his hands and rubbed them together eagerly. "Do I have great timing or what?"

"Two patients in one day!" Pride grinned. "This week is definitely looking up for me. What do you need, Alec? Is that cut infected? Oh, I haven't abraded a wound in a long time!"

Her enthusiasm bordered on sadistic. Alec looked back at her then pointed an accusing finger in her direction as the memory that eluded him the previous night now clear.

"That's it!" he said. "You're the one who shaved my head so you could practice sewing stitches. I got knocked out when my carbineer broke and I fell during a rappelling drill about seven years ago."

"Yes, you cut your scalp just behind your ear," Pride nodded. "I was in my level three field medical training at the time. You were unconscious with the concussion for a little while so I took the opportunity to make the laceration larger using a scalpel so I could get better at my quick stitching."

Alec glared at her then turned to Max with pleading eyes. Max shrugged. Pride was certainly skilled and gung-ho, but Max made a mental note that she needed permission to do any procedure or at least have another one of their medics present until they had more time assessing her decision making skills.

"Do you need me to do more now?" the eager medic asked. "Did you pull the ones from last night out? I can put them back in in a snap!"

"No," Alec said. "I want them out. They itch, and I don't need them. I figured you'd have something cleaner than my K-bar to snip them."

Without waiting for directions or permission, he started rifling through the drawers until he found a pair of medial sheers. He quickly rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt a dispatched the row of small knots in the mostly healed cut in a matter of seconds. He plucked out the useless thread then returned his sleeve to its normal position.

Max watched him with interest. Her mind was a blur of other half seen and half remember images from her dreams. Alec, standing in front of her, holding her. He was wearing a shirt and then for some odd reason he wasn't. She was in his front room and then he was in her bed. There was music of some sort in the background or maybe the sound of ocean waves. She tried to grab onto the memories but each faded as quickly as it rose, leaving her feeling flush and jittery again.

"Oo, this is what you were talking about, isn't it?" Pride said, noting the change in Max's pupils and the shift in her breath.

"Uh," Max nodded, looking away from Alec quickly. "Yeah, I guess. Look, never mind. It's nothing."

She turned away and took a step toward the door but halted as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Max?" Alec said with concern. "Is something wrong? Are you really down here for yourself?"

"I, uh," she shook her head at a loss for words. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he said searching her face with his own powerful gaze. "What were you saying about those tattoos?"

She was forced to look at him. The worry was evidence in his misty green irises. His expression was no longer the juvenile, taunting grin he wore when he first entered. He was being serious and was concerned. Max shook her head.

"Sit down," he said easily and steered her to the chair near Pride's desk.

Without asking, he squatted down beside her and turned over both of her arms, peering cautiously at the undersides. He then moved his expression to her neck, and then tugged at the back of her shirt to look at the back of her shoulders. Finished with his viewing, he moved in front of her again and knelt beside her and placed his hand reassuringly on her knee.

"I only see the same ones that appeared the first time," he reported. "Did you see anything else on you when you got dressed?

Afraid her voice would crack or no sound would emit at all, Max merely shook her head. She could feel the heat and the weight of his hand on one of her knees and the other on her forearm. Exhilarating pulses raced from those spots to her stomach, creating a fluttering sensation as each arrived.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking directly into her eyes.

Max was very glad Alec was not endowed with the gift of mind reading. She swallowed slowly, her mouth and throat dry.

"Stupid," she replied. "I… uh… my room gets too warm at night, and it just made me feel… sick sort of. Now that I'm here, I'm fine. I… I over reacted. I've… I've got too much on my mind lately, I guess."

Alec looked at her for a moment, forming his own opinion. She appeared fine in general. Her voice was a little shaky and her face a bit red, but he could attribute that to embarrassment. Only Max would be bothered by thinking she was sick and being wrong.

She sat very still under his scrutiny. She was struck again by the scent of him. If she wasn't in heat, then the only logic reason behind her restless dreams of him and her reaction to his touch was so much worse. Her senses were betraying her. She reasoned it was all due to spending so many weeks worried about his welfare and seeing him unexpectedly upon his return the night before. The stress of her work and her worry was amplifying some feelings and they were wreaking havoc with her body and mind. There was, she realized, only one solution for the day: Remove the problem.

"I need you to go," she said, pulling her arm out of his grasp and standing up so his hand slid from her knee.

"Go?" he repeated, lost on the odd bend in the conversation. "Go where?"

"Out," she said. "Away. I mean, I need someone to go make a run into Sector 5. Everyone else has a job today except you, so…"

"Sector 5," he said warily.

"Yes," she nodded. "Look, we both know that if I don't give you a job for the day, you'll bang around the complex today, taking everyone else off their schedule. Make the delivery for me and keep everyone on task and happy, Alec."

"You're sending me out?" Alec asked again, pointing uncertainly toward the windows. "You remember I've got one of these, right?" He spun around and pointed to the barcode on his neck. "This sort of revokes any sector pass you might hand me."

"Since when did that ever stop you?" she asked. "Besides, there's always the sewers."

"Friggin' sewers," Alec grumbled. "I'm a human, Max, well, mostly. Crawling around underground, in dank tunnels is not what I am supposed to do."

"Are you sure?" she asked, offering him an unsympathetic expression. "Look, I need something delivered, and you're as good a messenger boy as anyone else."

"No I'm not," he shook his head. "You know that. You worked with me. I was a terrible messenger."

"I'll give you another chance to prove yourself," she said, walking toward the door. "Pick up the package in my office in half an hour."

**# # # #**

The package was simply a letter. Mole handed it to Alec at the command post and conveyed a terse order from Max that he was not to open it. Seeing who it was addressed to, Alec's rolled his eyes in disinterest. The lizard-man then gave him a short briefing on the situation in Seattle with regard to transgenics being found on the street. It was still unwise to announce himself, but as long as he didn't create or happen upon a scene, he stood a chance of making a daylight run without any fuss. The fact that the transhumant did not vociferously or profanely object to a transgenic taking a stroll from TC in broad daylight was encouraging, Alec thought. Either that or Mole was still looking for the altercation that would finally tip them into a full-scale battle. Alec shrugged. He was up for either a boring afternoon or a firefight. He was just glad whatever meals he took that day would not be accompanied by borscht.

He departed Terminal City through the same abandoned conduit that he returned through the previous evening. It would dump him in the far corner of Sector 4, near the border with Sector 5. He knew the terrain fairly well having cased many of those apartment complexes for possible scores in the last year. Ninja'ing his way through them and over rooftops would drop him safely in the target sector without worrying about a pass as long as he avoided the hover drones. Considering the miserable weather, he liked his chances. The drones never flew high during thick foggy days and this was certainly one of those.

**# # # #**

Clouds filled the streets as the heavy blanket of blinding moisture filled the city. The bike traffic in and out of the Jam Pony offices was light this day as no one was dispatching despite the morning being in full swing. The employees were instead enjoying a rare relaxing morning out of the elements until the boss finally arrived.

"Ho, ho, no, no!" Reagan "Normal" Ronald bellowed as he happened upon one of his employees huddled near the outside of the Jam Pony offices with another hooded man. "There will be none of that in my establishment."

Sketchy, startled by his boss's approach, stood in front of his comrade blocking him from view.

"Normal," he said. "You're here early."

"I'm 20 minutes late," Normal replied. "I told you all I would be late this morning and asked you to watch the dispatch desk. I distinctly recall you stating you would do so. Now, whatever illicit herbage your felonious friend here is peddling isn't coming into my business. In fact, neither are you. That's it. I am re-establishing the war on drugs and the threshold of this office is the new front line. You are an enemy combatant and if I felt like paying a larger bill this month, I would be water boarding you. As it is, I don't have the time or interest so, instead, you're fired."

"Normal," Sketchy scoffed. "No, man, you got it all wrong."

"No, I don't my little weed smoking weirdo," Normal bellowed. "Out! Or off my sidewalk. You know what? I'm going to summon the police. That's what I'll do. Let them take out the trash for me."

He reached in his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He began dialing, but the phone was deftly snapped shut by the man in the hood. He easily stripped the phone out of Normal's fingers then lifted his head to look at Normal with a commanding expression.

"Don't do that," Alec said, looking into Normal's wide and surprised eyes. "Come on, as a favor to me. What do you say?"

"Alec, I… Uh," Normal said, flustered.

Normal's face was white with shock, but there was a slight redness starting to rise in his cheeks. Alec offered him his phone back. Normal took it, his fingers sliding over Alec's deliberately as he looked at his former employee with an odd mixture of fear and longing. Alec half smiled and half sneered at the man then wiped his fingers on his hoodie.

"How you doing, Normal?" Alec asked casually. "Long time."

"Yes, long… Uh… I'm… I'm good, very good, great even," Normal answered nervously. "Especially now that I see this moron I employ is not starting his own little Jamaica here at Jam Pony."

"Actually, Normal, pot hasn't been illegal in Seattle for something like nine years," Sketchy said. "As long as you have a prescription."

"Well, bully for you and everyone else around here who apparently has been diagnosed with a raging case of munchies-itus," Normal said sternly then turned a more thoughtful and pleasant gaze at Alec. "So, how… uh… how goes.. things? I mean here, its… Well, right now I'm having a great day. I, uh, I had breakfast at a fundraiser this morning—Harvard Alumni Association of Greater Seattle hosted a breakfast where the speaker was none other than President George Bush."

"Isn't he dead?" Sketchy asked.

"Not him, the other one," Normal grumbled, then turned a more pleasant gaze on the former cage fighting champion who used to sit on his dispatch desk and relive the blow-by-blow of his fights for Normal's entertainment. "He's a Yale man, so you know, the rivalry is there, but his father is one of my personal heroes so…"

"Right," Alec nodded. "Whatever. You're not firing Sketchy, are you? You were only kidding with him about the police, right?"

"Kidding?" Normal repeated, looking happily into the bright green eyes, making Alec grit his teeth and suppress a cringe. "Sure. You know me. I'm a kidder. I'm a kidder all the way. I'm hip with you guys and your… guy stuff. I joke. I do. It's a gift."

He clapped Alec on the shoulder, his hand lingering a several long moments beyond what was expected before Alec shrugged him off and took a further step back.

"Great," Alec said dismissively. "Well, I gotta go. Sketch, thanks for getting that to Cindy. I'd stick around to do it myself, but…."

"Whoa, whoa," Normal said, grabbing onto Alec's sleeve then retracting his hand as the man glared coldly at him. "You're leaving so soon? You just got here and the weather outside is… frightful. Don't want you walking around in it, do we? Besides, you've got friends here. Stay, relax. It's safe here… sort of. Hey, I'm down with all this… trans… whatever stuff."

"Last time I was here, you were pointing a gun at the trans-whatever stuff," Alec recalled.

"I admit there was a slight misunderstanding early on during that rather confusing and unfortunate afternoon," Normal nodded.

"Police shot me, and we were forced to take you all hostage so we could gain passage to a site so toxic it is condemned even by Seattle standards," Alec pointed out. "Yeah, that's a little unfortunate."

"So we agree, everyone was plenty of blame to share," Normal offered, ushering him into the building. "No reason to dwell on it. You're among… friends… allies."

"Oh, I feel better already," Alec said flatly as Normal guided him into the office.

Sketchy followed them and watched as his fellow messengers offered Alec frozen smiles and wary looks. Alec's eyes darted quickly from face to face and corner to corner on alert for any signs of danger. Max would kills him if the first real scuffle between Ordinaries and those who called TC home happened on his first full day back in the country—on an errand she personally gave him no less. He was all for pushing her buttons for his own entertainment when it suited him, but he was not interested in making headlines or Max's shit list this day.

He kept his posture causal, remembering the cursory rundown of the current situation in Seattle provided by Mole that morning. Roughly half of the city was prepared to accept the reports that the transgenics and transhumans had not, as the early reports indicated, gone on wild massacres or infected the rest of the population with deadly viruses; they had not taken over the financial or political power centers of the city nor had they stolen all the women and children. They were keeping to themselves and, other than the occasional rumor they were stealing food or medical supplies (which easily could be attributed to any one of a dozen other organizations in the city). In fact, they rarely made the news at all lately and were, in fact, considered back-burner for interest at this point. Not that anyone wanted them leaving the TC in droves.

For the most part, Alec learned, transgenics could make trips into half of the sectors of the city without being accosted too much. People still stared and kept their distance, but very few people would outright run in the opposite direction upon spotting a barcode on a person's neck. Most didn't reach into their waistbands of purses to pull out guns at seeing them. They certainly reached to make sure the piece was there and the safety was off, but drawing on them was a rarity lately.

The same could not be said for the transhumans. They were not as free to leave TC yet. There were several civil rights groups in the area staging small and mostly ignored demonstrations to show support for the mammal/lizard/fish hybrids. Alec, however, was glad to know that as long as he wasn't in the vicinity of any violent crime or majorly illegal undertaking, he could move about Seattle with nearly the same ease as he had when he was a bike messenger. Granted, he did not have a sector pass and needed to jedi his way past the police checkpoints using under and high over-ground routes, but all in all, he was not quite the prisoner he had been before he left the US for his Russian vacation.

Some of that, he was learning, was due to numerous Eyes Only broadcasts. This discovery was bittersweet. He was thankful he was not automatically going to be thrown in jail or attacked by a mob simply because he was born with a telltale birthmark. Still, it had to be Logan to whom he owed this modicum of freedom?

The cyber journalist had apparently been on a civil rights crusade in overdrive during the months that Alec was gone. The Eyes Only reports and follow ups by named journalists had turned the tide in government committees calling for rounding up the mutants and executing them or placing them in camps to be studied. This was helped along greatly by exposing the corruption in the committee previously barking those actions and through pointing attention at the more dangerous threat the breeding cult posed. Several of their raids and rituals were made public, which made the transgenics look like just a bunch of naughty college kids who needed a better dorm monitor rather than blood-thirsty beasts needing to be put down in the interest of public safety.

Rumor had it there was talk of creating a special sector pass to be given to all transgenics (but only select transhumas) that would allow them access to parts of the city. That the pass would also allow them to be tracked was understood if not precisely mentioned. Alec didn't know how he felt about that. Either way, he was being treated like a criminal. Still, as someone who in fact was a part-time thief, he also figured he had been treated worse at Manticore.

At first, he worried going to Jam Pony that morning was foolish, but after being practically kicked out by Max, he was in the mood for something reckless. Still, he needed to remind himself that there was a bigger picture. His actions would impact this fellow TC residents. He was no longer responsible for just himself. He was part of something larger, more than just a unit, he was part of a team, a family.

So, it was with caution that he entered his former place of employ and felt the weight of many stares on him. His pulse was up and felt his muscles tighten in case he needed to fall back on those strains of wild speed woven into his genes to get the hell out quickly. Sketchy noted his tension and whispered in his ear.

"Oh, it's cool," Sketchy said. "No one's gonna try to jump you, I mean other than Normal maybe. Everyone's just weirded out because there was a rumor a few weeks back that you were dead."

Sketchy then turned to the room and held up his hands.

"No worries," he announced loudly. "Alec is alive. This is the real him. No clone. No undead man walking. It was all a misunderstanding. Okay? So you can chill."

People exchanged uncertain looks then generally shrugged and nodded and went back about their business.

"See," he nodded at Alec. "Sorry about that. It was kind of my fault. See, after I heard the rumor, I was at Crash and I may have said a few things I shouldn't before I knew they weren't true, but in my defense, I heard them from OC who got it from Max. The vibe was pretty strong, like a real buzz kill sort of strong between them. I mean, there was Max all upset and sort of crying on OC's shoulder about losing you, dude. Powerful. It got to me so I had to go drown my sorrows and… I guess I started talking."

"Max? Crying?" Alec asked, surprised at the information. "About me?"

Max had admitted to him others were saddened when they thought he perished with the sinking ship, but he figured it was momentary shock—particularly on her part. To go so far as to leave TC and seek out her friend OC for comfort was a bit more consideration than he expected. Alec shook his head. _ Maybe she was upset about losing her chance at getting her chance for a cure, but losing me? That doesn't seem right._

"Yeah, totally," Sketchy nodded. "I had just got this scoop, or what I thought was a scoop, about a merman off the coast of Russia. This sailor gave me a lead and I was going to ask OC to get in touch with Max to see if she could confirm whether it might be true. So I walked into this bar over on 7th and who's there but Max and OC having a heart-to-heart. Max's eyes were all red. At first, I thought maybe she was drunk, but then she seemed a little too with it for that. It's like she was there, trying to get drunk to drown her sorrows and have OC sooth her pain, but it was too much and she couldn't do it."

"I'm not buying it," Alec shook his head.

"Hey, I wouldn't either, but it was real man," Sketchy assured him. "I mean, she was like bad ass Max still, but she was also really sad, like girlie kind of sad, make a mix of your favorite sad songs and sit in a room alone and cry kind of sad. It really moved me. It was like, transcendent."

Sketchy looked at him knowingly and nodded slowly. He patted Alec on the arm as he continued to nod as his face offered a profound and solemn expression.

"Man, what are you doing?" Alec asked. "You trying to have a moment or are you taking lessons from Normal on the violation of personal space rule?"

Alec shrugged him off. Sketchy nodded, ran his hand nervously through his hair and took a solid step back, but kept an engaging smile on his face.

"Sorry," Sketchy apologized easily. "I just thought, you know, maybe since Max and Logan are on the outs you could make your move finally."

"My move?" he repeated and shook his head. "On Max? Yeah, I don't think so."

_Especially now that she and Logan were no longer on the outs and were, in fact, likely to be truly on the "in's" in the near future_, he thought wryly.

**# # # # **

Darkness fell over the city as the rain continued into the evening. Logan arrived as arranged at TC with news that their smuggled scientist was up and working already. He had secured her a safe workspace and was trying to work out a means for her to meet with Max soon. As he explained all of this, he peered around the office and the command post just outside looking for an expected face but not finding it.

"Where is Alec?" Logan asked finally, pleased not to see him hanging around Max's office but surprised at the same time. "He get settled back in to life here?

"You didn't ask him yourself?" Max inquired as she sat opposite him at her desk.

It had been a long day of meetings and clock-watching. Once learning her early fears of biological speed bumps were unfounded, Max placed a call to Logan for an update on his progress with reaching out to those in power to arrange a high level meeting that would be the equivalent of a truce talk. She hoped also to get a full debriefing on Brezhenski and how they would proceed with her plans for researching and developing a cure for them.

"Uh, no," Logan shook his head. "I haven't seen him since he brought the doctor to me at the warehouse yesterday."

"What?" Max asked then shouted to the outer room. "You mean he wasn't with you and the doctor today?" Logan shook his head again. " CeCe?"

The tall blond entered promptly in answer to the summons. When questioned on her knowledge of Alec's current location or activities for the day, she had no details to provide the boss other than he left in the morning.

"Haven't seen or heard from him since," CeCe shrugged. "Mole briefed him like you asked. I don't know where is his now. I checked the log; he hasn't reported in to the command post and none of the sentries registered him entering the compound. Have you tried calling him?"

"He doesn't have a phone," Logan said. "He lost everything with him except the papers I gave him, whatever weapon he was carrying and the clothes on his back when _The Temptress_ went down."

CeCe and Max exchanged concerned looks. They had done so several times in the previous months whenever one of their operatives was missing or overdue to return. They had usually been lucky and the missing man or woman did return—usually unscathed—but not every time. They always feared it was only a matter of time before the bad news washed up at their feet again. Logan, reading the looks and body language, jumped in quickly.

"The hot news item today is the hooker scandal with the deputy mayor,," he reported. "So, unless Alec has been their pimp—and let's be frank, if he hadn't been in Russia for a few months, it might have been possible, but he hasn't been here so he's not involved. To me, that means he's under the radar, wherever he is."

CeCe and Max again exchanged a look of uncertainty. They were encouraged by Logan's lack of information, but we not ready to breath completely easy.

"Look, I understand there is reason for concern," Logan said, still sensing the tension, "but there's no reason to worry. We're not at defcon one out there lately and everything I've heard says White and his people are laying low while the senate holds hearings on his involvement with the DOD. This is Alec. He came back from being presumed dead recently. I think you can cut him a little slack and give him the benefit of the doubt for taking a walk in Seattle and assume he's fine."

CeCe nodded encouragingly then bowed her head and left the room. She closed the door, leaving Max and Logan alone in the office. A single light on the corner of the desk burned, casting tall shadows on the walls. Logan fixed his gaze on Max.

"Something else going on?" he asked.

"One of my guys is missing," she said. "That tends to bother me. Or haven't you noticed that in the last few months?"

"Oh, I've noticed," he nodded. "You've been pretty mopey since '_your guy'_ left the first time. Did it occur to you that maybe he's doing this just to make you worry?"

"What are you talking about?" Max asked.

"Alec," Logan said sourly. "Your guy with propensity toward the attention seeking behaviors."

Max looked back at him with a mixture of fury and guilt. She was genuinely concerned Alec had not reported in yet, but she was angry Logan was not taking it seriously. She was also suffering confusion over the rush of emotions she was experiencing which seemed to revolve around Alec. That Logan was picking up on those feelings was not surprising. That he chose this moment to get ornery about them was not what she needed.

"He's one of us," she said in a controlled tone.

Logan sighed and tried to take all the frustration and pent up jealousy he felt and did his best to ignore and deny out of his voice. He offered her his least confrontational look while still remaining serious and focused.

"Max, what's going on?" he asked. "Can you honestly tell me that I'm imagining this? In the last year or so, I got used to there being tension when you were dealing with Alec, but its changed."

"Nothing's changed," she said. "He's still a pain in my ass."

"Is that all?" Logan asked.

"Isn't that enough?" she scoffed. "Yes, I'll admit I have been worried about him, but you kind of had to expect that seeing as we thought he died out at sea doing a favor for us. But really, he was back like five minutes last night and he was hitting on the medical staff and then trying to get Joshua to jump back into some money scheme with his art."

"All of which is typical Alec behavior that you should be used to by now," Logan surmised. "Why is it getting to you so much?"

Max sighed and considered her answer. She didn't have a good one or a simple one because frankly she didn't know herself. Not entirely. There was a suspicion in her mind and worry in her heart, but those were emotions and she knew you couldn't trust those always.

"He's not just some cast off from Manticore," she admitted. "Yeah, he doesn't exactly follow rules or orders very well, which is surprising considering his upbringing, but he's not a total screw up. He's not the same guy who showed up in Seattle last year. He's a part of this team and I… need him."

"You need him?" Logan repeated and nodded slowly.

"Well, first off, he's a pretty good example of what not to do some days," she offered trying to be flip and take the edge off this discussion. "Being a cautionary tale is not exactly a bad thing."

Logan shook his head and stood. The hiss and whir of his exo-skeleton sounded loud in the still room.

"It kind of feels like it's more than that sometimes, Max," he said. "I used to think it was because you made me think you hooked up with him. Now, I'm wondering if it was so easy to believe that because it feels like there is something more going on between you."

"What are you accusing me of?" she asked hotly.

"I don't know," he shook his head. "Maybe nothing on your part, but… This is Alec. He's said things to me about you and he's… a player."

"And you think I'd fall for his sorry lines?" she scoffed. "I'm not sure if I'm more surprised at your low opinion of my intelligence or you breaking out into a fit of insecurity and inferiority. Oh, and I'm insulted too, while I think about it."

Logan sighed and hung his head. They were supposed to be talking about Brezhenski and how she were going to move forward in an effort to help them. _Wouldn't that just be perfect_, Logan thought, _that I sent Alec to get us the cure and in doing so sent him on a collision course with our future?_

**# # # #**

Several miles away, in a well-hidden and nicely provisioned lab, Dr. Svetlana Brezhenski was looking at a slide under an electron microscope. It was from a sample she had been testing and analyzing all day since Logan brought her to this place of many machines, security cameras and test tubes. It was located in the second subbasement of a pharmaceutical firm few ever heard of but often benefit from its offerings.

BioCorp was a good corporate citizen in that it did its job with very little notice and few than expected casualties. They had government contracts to research bio weapons and the defense against them. They were also in the routine vaccine business and dabbled in women's cosmetics. Several famous celebrity spokes models touted their products in late night infomercials. Their corporate offices were located in Seattle mostly because real estate was cheap. It was easier to buy security (particularly for a company no one really paid much attention) than it was to shell out the dough for a better location in a nicer city. That several colleagues of the famous Eyes Only were interested in them, in a positive way, and were seeking to do business was considered quite a coup in the front office. They gladly made space and resources available to the renowned, and until this morning thought dead, geneticist Svetlana Brezhenski.

Logan felt the lab was the best and safest place for the old woman. He would not have been pleased to learn how easily she was located by a man who did not even have a cell phone nor how easily he penetrated the building's security that evening to find her.

Brezhenski, a thin, white-haired woman with a hawkish nose, dark protuberant eyes and spidery veins covering her prominent cheekbones, had slightly rounded shoulders and spoke in a deep, heavily accented voice. She made several notes from her observations of the slide then turned to address her companion, who had arrived an hour earlier and was watching her work.

"You are too young and too handsome to be here with me," Brezhenski said with a dry chuckle, opting to speak to him in English as he had not addressed her in Russian since he arrived. "Whoever has broken your heart is a fool. Go to her. Say you were wrong and make love until your parts are raw or numb. She will forgive after that."

Alec smirked as he sat on the lab table watching her look at compounds under the microscope. He felt oddly comfortable here in this setting. He wasn't sure if it was the doctor's no-nonsense attitude or the lab itself. The irony was not lost on him. Perhaps something in his DNA considered a lab full of test tubes home or like a mother.

"It's not like that, Sveta," he said. "I sort of got into a pissing match with my boss last night. I think I lost because she sent me to do a grunts work today."

"Next time don't piss or piss harder," she advised. "Saves you from losing."

"Right," he chuckled. "So, uh, you got your science fair project all figured out yet or what? You're supposed to be a genius with this stuff. You found the magic bullet?"

"Yes and no," she said. "If only my colleagues, so many of them now dead, could see me. They would finally see that I was the best of them."

She smiled at him with crooked, stained teeth that clashed mightily with the pristine white lab coat she wore. He didn't like the look of either. The smile was creepy, but it was the lab coat that twisted his stomach more. All doctors, whether in labs or hospitals, did that to him. It was a reaction to his time at Manticore. The time in Psy-Ops was the worst by far, but the time spent being a lab rat to other procedures wasn't not a far off second in his recollections.

"Yeah?" Alec noted, not really caring what her Russian pals would think or say. He barely cared what his own would on any given day. Strangers just didn't register with him. However, he was lonely and figured Brezenshki was the one person in the city who had no one else to talk to either. "They'd be surprised?"

"_Da_," Brezhenski nodded. "It was always so hard for me, not being the same as the others. I was a woman."

"Iron out some of those wrinkles and get some implants, and you still could be," Alec offered and grinned mischievously at her. He had learned over many weeks with the doctor that she preferred a colder and harsher approach to conversation, as if the weather of Siberia had seeped into her sensibilities over the decades.

Brezhenski looked up then slapped his cheek affectionately as she smiled at him.

"Men," she chided then shook her head as she continued. "It was all men. All in my field, all doctors, but all with military title. All with political friends. Me? I was outsider. A woman and a pure scientist. I do as I know, as I learned. I was not concerned with what others thought of me. So we were the same, all trained, but I was different."

"They didn't like you?" he ventured.

"They feared me," she answered. "Said I did not understand how the world worked. They were always so… what is word… superior. We were equals in so many ways, but I was still less in their eyes—always. You understand this, yes?"

Alec sighed and shrugged half-heartedly.

"Wanting acceptance isn't always best," she said. "Not always bad either. You, Alec, are superior in so many ways. Your chemistry, your biology, your physiology."

He chuckled and threw out his chest as he grinned.

"Thankfully, I have compromised morals or I wouldn't be able to live with my ego," he replied then looked up as a terrifying thought crossed his mind. "Wait. Were you just hitting on me?"

"Such a funny boy," she replied, tweaking his cheek. "And yet still so sad."

"Sad?" he gaped. "Me? No, I know how to enjoy life. I try to live in the moment. I don't have time for sad. Sad is for your client and her benefactor. I am not some guilt junkie or bleeding heart masochist trying to save the world one wretched soul at a time. Those two, they deserve each other and their combined sadness."

"Your friends," Brezhenski nodded. "Mr. Cale and Max?"

"I have no friends," Alec grinned. "I save a fortune on Christmas cards every year. So you said you think you've got this super bug figured out?"

"_Da_," she nodded. "Maybe. The hardest part, always, is the beginning. That is how I came to my answer. In the beginning, there is life. So, the answer is the power of life."

"The power of love?" he questioned, shaking his head not sure if he heard her. "Your accent just threw me. We need to do this with subtitles."

"Always so funny," she chuckled. "No, not love. I said the power of life, but life comes to us through love… sometimes. And sometimes not."

She winked at him knowingly. He looked around the room at the glass door cold storage units, the vial and test tubes and suddenly felt awkward. Someone, he realized, like Brezhenski sat in a lab like this one night and tossed drop of this and that into a test tube and created him. The thought made him shiver.

"I don't get it," Alec shrugged off the feeling. "You've gone way too new agey on me. You score some bad swag and smoke it at lunch, Sveta?"

"No," she shook her head and grinned at him.

"You just told me you're gonna whack this virus using the power of positive thinking," he said. "So if you didn't have an herbal lunch, I gotta ask: Does senility run in your family, doc?"

"It does not," she chuckled. "Suicide does, but not the loss of one's faculties."

"Well, I can see where keeping your marbles might contribute to the suicide rate," he nodded as he rolled his eyes. "That's uplifting, doc. Thanks for sharing. Now, tell me again what you're doing to kill this bug."

"I meant that the answer to solving this puzzle will be found in creating a life form that has a natural immunity to it," Brezhenski reported. "The antibodies from that can be harvested and a vaccine engineered from it based on the research BioCorp has done for other bio weapons. Phases two and three will be easy. It is only phase one that will be a challenge: creating my own perfect weapon, if you will."

"Whoa," he shook his head. "Uh, is that wise? You're gonna create something stronger than this virus to go after and kill it? Correct me if I'm wrong, but can't that go really, really bad very quickly? It's one thing to kill Logan—I'm not advocating it, but I've seen enough lab mistakes to know what can happen—still we should probably try to avoid offing other people, too. What happens if your little ninja goes rogue and suddenly everyone who can breathe starts oozing pus from their ears and tries to chew the faces off their neighbors? I've known her for a while and I can tell you that will piss off Max pretty quickly; I mean, first killing Logan will won't start things out well for you, but then wiping out the state of Washington, too? That'll send her into a bitch spiral for, I don't know, like a month easy. Trust me when I tell you, no one wants to deal with that."

"Is not like that," the doctor chuckled and shook her head firmly.

"You sure?" he asked. "Sveta, this is a Manticore virus you're tangling with. It's tiny, but they programmed it to have SERE training—that's Survive, Evade, Resist and Escape. They didn't do things half-assed when it came to weapons that kill. I know: I'm one of them."

Brezhenski looked at him with a combination of fascination and pity. Alec didn't like the scrutiny. It was the pity aspect in her gaze that bothered him. If she had looked at him with fear or intimidation, he could swallow that. Sympathy and pity, however, were harder. He pulled his eyes away and continued with his objection.

"You're talking about creating the viral equivalent of an arms race," he argued. "You've lived long enough to know that those never end well. What happens when you bring a gun to a knife fight? The next week, the buddy of the guy you shot comes to see you and brings a bazooka. Escalation is inevitable and… you know, bad, I guess."

"_Niet_," she shook her head. "Not another virus. Something to lull the virus… like putting it to sleep."

"Warm milk and a cookie?" he asked. She smiled and shook her head. "Bottle of Vodka?"

"Nothing so temporary," she said. "Something in its own nature, something that shares part of its own DNA."

"So, not send a bug to kill a bug?" he questioned. "You're not going to really kill the virus, you're going to make it…"

"Impotent," she nodded.

"Hey, careful throwing that word around, Sveta," he offered and shirked at it. "It can be a jinx."

She laughed at him again and continued to explain her solution. When she was through, Alec wasn't sure he fully understood the intricacies, but the gist of it seemed too simple to work.

"Create a monster to wrestle this monster to stalemate," he nodded. "Godzilla verses Mothra."

She looked at him in confusion. He waved his hands to signal that he understood and she could move forward with her explanation.

"But this is not another virus," she assured him. "This is an antibody, like you have to fight illness in you now. This one will be naturally immune."

"And what creature carries this antibody?" he asked.

"One that does not yet exist," she beamed.

"You're going to cook up a freak of your own," he said with a shiver. "Here in the lab. Great. We can have a family reunion."

"Da," she nodded. "Life. Like you. Like your friend, Max."

"Uh, that's not a good idea," he said. "It's kind of a big point of contention in our world right now and there's no way Max is going to go for it. She's not going to let you genetically engineer some clone to…"

"Not a clone," Brezhenski laughed. "You are doing what all others would do with this problem. You over think."

"I can honestly say that is the first time anyone has ever said that to me," Alec offered. The doctor ignored him and continued with her topic.

"You go for the billion dollar solution and not the hundred dollar solution," Brezhenski chided. "This is old technology, old science, more than 50 years—1978."

Alec looked at her blankly. He had no idea what happened of any technological significance in 1978 and said so. Brezhenski grinned and explained.

"Regular old test tube baby," she replied succinctly. "Half DNA from your friend Max; half from Mr. Cale. Give it a stir. Bake on moderate temperature until new life is created. If all goes well, embryo will have natural immunity leading to creation for vaccine."

"So, life," he repeated and nodded as he understood. "I think I should have seen that coming."

**# # # #**

The news of Brezhenki's solution sat like a rock in Alec's stomach. He told himself it was one of the many side effects to developing a conscience that occasionally considered the big picture, but he knew there as a part of it that simply didn't like the idea of mixing Max's DNA with Logan's. It was a permanent bond, cementing them together. As he escorted Brezhenski across the Pacific, he thought he made peace with the prospect of the couple finally overcoming the last obstacle keeping them apart. Now, he wasn't so sure he was as cool with the notion as he hoped.

He moved unmolested through the streets and arrived back at TC unnoticed. He was able to scale a perimeter fence to gain entry and stroll across the abandoned parking garage in silence with his hands sunk in his pockets and his head down in thought.

"Halt," growled a menacing voice from a shadow on his life. "Oh, hell, it's just you. Get lost running your errand today? You know it's past your curfew and bedtime, little boy."

The cigar smoke wafted from the shadow before Mole stepped into view—not that Alec required him to do so. At his first word, Alec's pupil dilated and saw the cranky guard leaning on a concrete wall pointing a sizable and surely loaded weapon at him.

"I had a day pass," Alec said. "Decided to make the most of it."

"Yeah, well, the lady of the house is pissed because that's not what she recalls her orders being," Mole sneered, chomping hard on the wet stub in his mouth. "You're grounded and you're supposed to get your ass to her quarters right now and report."

Alec nodded his agreement. He had lost track of time. After leaving the mad scientists layer, he had gone to the abandoned space needle to view the city. Max, he recalled, had done that often in the past to settle her mind, to think and reflect and seek some inner peace. He tried it solo and failed. All he left with were more questions and a knot in his stomach that had nothing to do with the fact he had not eaten since lunch. With a sigh of resignation, he waved his acknowledgement of the order to Mole and turned toward Building Four.

He climbed the stairs two at a time, hoping to get to Max's and get it over with. He wasn't sure he wanted to see her. Their reunion the previous evening was first prickly then awkward. Their interaction in the morning oddly stilted. He wasn't sure what was next on the sliding scale of "going badly" to expect from tonight's encounter. With a disinterested sigh, he knocked on her door. It opened promptly.

"I know what you're gonna say," Alec said the instant she appeared. "I should have checked in. I didn't think about it. I dropped off your thing for OC and then took care of a few things." He reached into his pocket and revealed a cellphone. "This took a bit of time. I had to find a guy I knew and work it out with him."

"And then?" she asked. "Presumably that didn't take 14 hours."

"No, more like four," Alec said. "If you count the part where I had to track him down and then get something he wanted in order to get me this." She glared at him, seeking but not specifically asking for more details. He didn't know why he wanted to make her squirm and feel left out, but he did so he offered up a veiled explanation for the rest of his time. "Then I was with this lady I know."

He shrugged and grinned, wondering what Sveta would think about being secretly cast as his leading lady in his farce of an evening of pleasure.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" Max gaped. "Since you've been back, you've propositioned or hit on half a dozen women here and now you've been catting around with some call girl in the city. Very classy, Alec. Really. You're like a walking hormone."

"Nothing wrong with liking sex, Maxie," he said letting her believe the lie. "I'm not a freak about it; I'm just a fan."

He grinned as he looked into her eyes mischievously. She was dressed in a pair of thin, cut off sweatpants and a black tank top. Her hair was wild as if she had been sleeping, which he thought unlikely as she rarely did that. He peeked into her room to see if she was alone. She was, not surprisingly.

"You're all about the quick hit, Alec," Max said shaking her head ruefully. "You're about cheap thrills and getting your rocks off before you towel off and go looking for your next conquest."

The comment stung, but he knew he deserved it after deceiving her. He knew it was childish to do so as it was simply a ploy to try and spark some jealousy in her. Not seeing any, he decided to strategically take offense. He scoffed and leaned on the door frame, moving within inches of her.

The scent, the one that roiled through her dreams and left her moaning softly in her sleep, gripped her again. She felt her pulse quicken and beads of sweat erupt on her neck line and chest. Her mouth grew dry and she swallowed hard, trying to keep a controlled and slightly sour expression on her face and she looked up at him.

"You have no idea what I'm about," he said in a low, husky tone. "You think know, but you don't."

"I don't?" she repeated feeling breathless.

"No," he shook his head. "Know why? Because you have no imagination. You see the world in your uptight, oh-isn't-it-so-sad, I-really-must-do- something-to-fix-it-and-when-I-can't-make-it-perfect-I'm-going-to-go-sit-10-safe-feet-from-Logan-and-sigh- about-how-unfair-it-all-is way."

Max fought the urge to inhale deeply and drink in his scent like a parched woman offered cool, fresh spring water. It was too intoxicating to her senses. Even a few breaths more and she would be drunk on it and lose her sensibilities. Her lips felt dry and she worried her voice my crack under the strain as tiny shivers streaked up and down her neck and spine. She cocked her head to the side and forced a hard and smug look into her dark eyes.

"Sorry, I guess I just never learned how to be shallow and superficial like you," she shrugged, folding her arms across her chest, hoping he was not noticing the pace of her breathing.

_Damn it,_ she thought angrily while hoping her face was not as red as she feared. _Why does this keep happening, and why does he have to stand so damn close?_

"Nothing shallow or superficial about just letting yourself go and enjoying life, Maxie," he said in a quiet and confident tone. "My advice: Let yourself have a naughty fantasy or two, and then find a way to live them, nice and slow, repeating the good bits—the parts that make every muscle in your body quiver in ecstasy until your eyes roll back in your head. You'll find life a lot more enjoyable that way."

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, making her wonder and (fleetingly) hope that he was having one of those fantasies at that moment; after all, she was fighting one herself. In an effort to stop it, Max shook her head and scoffed weakly while feeling her knees tremble.

"You measure time from one pornographic thought to the next, don't you?" she said haughtily. "Does any idea pass through your mind without turning into some rotten little sex fantasy?"

He shook his head then grinned as he stepped back abruptly. She shivered again, for the loss of the heat she could feel radiating off his body. His tone quickly changed from seductive to sarcastic as his posture became slightly defensive.

"Hey, I don't have a dirty mind," Alec objected lightly. "I just have a sexy imagination. Like, right now, we're talking about how repressed you are, but I'm also imagining a…"

Max scoffed loudly then slammed the door in his face rather than hear the details of what he imagined.

"I'm here to help if you need me," he shouted and patted the door as he chuckled and walked away grinning.

Alec continued down the hall with no destination in mind. It was late but he was not tired having spent his afternoon napping on his couch catching up on TV. There was very little that was new in the entertainment world—which was fine with him as his knowledge of TV, movies and music did not stretch back that far. He gained an fascination, bordering on addiction, when he was first sent into the field by Manticore. Knowing the slang, customs and latest interests of the region where he was operating was necessary, but he found watching TV an easier and more enjoyable way to learn than reading endless, dry briefing papers written by those with a background in psychology, history and sociology. Whatever celebrity was being vilified or celebrated for drug, alcohol or sex addiction gave him greater insight into a population than what the median income was.

He was considering returning to his quarters to search for an all-night marathon of some movie genre. He was recently partial to horror flix from the 20th century. The fascination of movie makers to put horny, drunk teenagers in the woods to look for whatever scary thing made that eerie noise just never got old to him. He was headed toward the stairs when he spied a familiar face watching him from an open door.

She wore only a tank top and a pair of running shorts. Her long hair was glossy and smelled freshly washed. Her grey, wide-set eyes smiled at him even if her mouth did not. Alec halted his exit and moved in her direction as she spoke.

"You know, it's getting a little too much to take," Cactus said as she leaned out of her room.

"Agave," Alec said dramatically, leaning on the door frame beside her. He peered into her room with a curious leer. "Pining for me?"

"Not now," she replied. "Which is sad for you, sweetie, because, have no doubt, we could have had some fun nights."

"Still can," he offered. "It's early."

"See, those pretty, pouty lips say I'm available, but everything else about you says 'sorry, I'm booked,'" she shrugged.

"What?" he balked and offered her a surprised and confused look. "Booked? Me? I live in the moment. Fly by the seat of my pants; I'll fly without them if I have the right copilot."

He grinned at her and raked his gaze over her form dragging it appreciatively down the left and eagerly up the right. His bright eyes twinkled behind the dark, long lashes.

"Uh huh," she said flatly as she folded her arms with resignation. "I'm not falling for it, Alec. None of us are."

"Not falling for what?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"This act," Cactus said. "This over the top fun-time Alec act, the boy who comes out to flirt but doesn't stay for the second act. We've figure it out. You've taken yourself out of rotation; what we don't get is why you still keep showing up dressed for the game. It's confusing… and sad."

"There are a lot of metaphors and references in there," he shook his head. "You lost me."

"We all did," Cactus sighed. "I'm not saying any of us wanted to keep you, but a few of us did want to take you out to play at least once. It's not fair of your to tease us still."

He stepped close to her, pushing her long, dark hair off her shoulder and placing a soft kiss along her neck before speaking in a soft, husky voice to her.

"Teasing is not my style," he said. "Now, some fun and games, maybe a little role playing on the other hand…"

Cactus looked back at him with a frank expression as she craned her neck to the opposite side and cleared her throat.

"Oh, hi, Max," she called loudly down the hallway.

Alec quickly spun his head to look over his shoulder. The hall was empty. Max's door was closed. He grimaced then turned a guilty expression back to Cactus.

"So much for fun and games," Cactus said and tapped him lightly on the cheek as a scolding. She also offered him a sympathetic and pitying expression.

"What?" he shook his head. "No, see, I can explain that. I can… I just… Uh… Yeah, I… I got nothing good."

"That's right, you don't," she said. "You sure got yourself in a mess this time, Alec."

"I'm fine," he assured her.

"Right, like in St. Petersburg," Cactus offered and scoffed. "_My hover craft is full of eels._ Honestly."

"Hey, we needed a distraction," he shrugged. "As I recall, that saved your ass."

"As I recall, the reason it needed saving was that you were betting on a chess match rather than watching the door," she reminded him.

"I wasn't just betting on a match," he shook his head vehemently. "I was playing, winning, too, until you and your behemoth date got a little too hot and heavy for the rest of the room. Why was he covered in butter again?"

"Uh, he was my target, and he wasn't covered in butter," Cactus relied through gritted teeth. "He was a large and very sweaty man who was the one molesting me after downing a bottle of vodka."

She scoffed at the memory of her first and only overseas mission. She was sent with Alec and Captain Nathan Kurts, one of Colonel Lydecker's men and their control officer at the time, to dispose of two leading members of a Russian organized crime family. They spent several days in St. Petersburg sizing up the targets and planning their strike. It had been her first kill. She recalled it mostly not for the fact she took a life but for the way it did not bother her to do so. Alec, then simply 494 to her, also dispatched his target, the man he challenged to that chess match, with similar ease and lack of remorse. She was sent home for a debriefing immediately upon the confirmation of her kill. Alec, she recalled, remained as they were moving him to another city for another and unrelated mission. She had not seem him again until four months later back in Wyoming at the Manticore facility during a forced 20 mile morning run. He greeted her instantly with a barrage of barbs about the large and glutinous man for whom she posed as a prostitute that evening. He never seemed to let that point slide.

"My point is, you just don't know when to give up and admit you're busted," she said. "Now is a perfect example."

"That is simply who I am," he shook his head. "Never give up. Never surrender. You're not dead until you're buried."

She shook her head then reached up and tugged on his messy hair. There was debate earlier in the day on whether it looked good a little longer. She disagreed. She preferred it a bit shorter. She might not be able to play with him the way she wanted, but she could clean him up a bit. He was handsome, even in his scruffy and unkempt state. A little haircut would only improve what little she could get from him: viewing pleasure.

"Come on, Samson," she joked yanking on his shirt. "Let Delilah give you a makeover so you look pretty again."

"All right," he agreed laughing as he stepping into her room, "but if it smells a fat, drunk Russian covered in butter in here, I am leaving."

Down the hall, Max peered out of her door, watching Cactus tug the neck of Alec's T-shirt, pulling him into her bedroom. She seethed with a burning in her chest and a prickling sensation at the back of her eyes as she closed her door and hung her head.

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N:** Props to anyone who catches the MST3K reference. (Oh Alec, the things you say!) Sorry this chapter feels a little flat. Setting up some stuff up that will play into the future chapters. More yet to come!


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 5)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Thanks again to those who review and follow. Time for free writing is growing scarce as the next two chapters for my new novel are due shortly, so I'm dropping a chapter on you to celebrate my first novel getting the contracts settled to be available on iBooks (look for 'The Peacemaker' out there shortly—info to appear on my profile page as well). For those who asked about the MST3K referenced in the author note at the end of Chapter 4: That's 'Mystery Science Theater 3000,' an American cult classic show in which a human host and his robot companions watch and ridicule the worst movies ever made.

**# # # #**

Max felt as though the floor was crumbling beneath her feet. A sick, swooping feeling filled he stomach as she watch Alec get happily dragged into Cactus' room down the hall. Max stood in her own doorway, peering around the casing, not exactly spying. She stepped back into her room and closed her door quietly.

She instantly grabbed her pullover and jammed her feet into a pair of sneakers. At another time, a feeling like this would have sent her off on her bike. She and the black Ninja would have torn up the Seattle backstreets with a fury to match the anxiety in her stomach. But she was on lock down essentially. There was nowhere to run to… unless she actually ran. So she did.

Max left her room, walking by Cactus' and trying hard not to tune her acute hearing to whatever might be going on behind the door. She heard Alec laugh briefly and felt even worse about her evening. First, she spent the previous evening tossing and turning because bizarre thoughts and feelings surrounding Alec harassed her attempts at sleep. This night, when she was so tired from the worry and anxiety over what all that meant (on top of every other stressful thing in her world), he was doing it again. Only this time he had stoked a fire of anger in her belly that made her want to grab him by his scruffy, unkempt hair and…

She grit her teeth and began to run. There was no point, she knew, in letting the emotion get the best of her. Controlling feelings of rage was one of the few lessons Manticore drilled into her that was useful. Instead, she concentrated on moving her legs swiftly and quietly down the hall, then up the stairs to the roof. Once there, she surveyed the terrain. There were roofs and fire escapes and plenty of other features to give her a solid and reasonably difficult obstacle course, particularly in the dark. Her eyes could pick apart the surfaces and voids easily, but the cloak of night gave her some privacy. The evening's mist would also keep her cool, and possible help mask any tears should the painful, hot stabs behind her eyes be an indication of what might come.

Max set off at a steady pace, taking a full lap of Building Four before making a colossal and graceful leap down onto the landing of a fire escape alongside Building Three. She traversed the switchbacks quickly and continued to zigzag up and down and around Terminal City for the better part of an hour. Her thoughts were jumbled and unhelpful during the exercise so she did her best to crowd them out with paying attention only to the regular rhythm of her heart and breath. After completing several miles, she found herself again on top of the building she called home. Her arms were sore from scaling several buildings and not using her feet in an effort to exhaust herself and bring on sleep later. The muscles in her legs were pulsing hot from exertion and her hair was damp from sweat and mist. She descended the stairs to the fourth floor when she heard a loud and pleasurable squeal in that hallway.

Curious, she padded quietly toward the sound. The door near the stairs stood open and the sound of two women emanated from it. Any peace or calm Max felt after her workout was lost instantly as she listened to the pleasure-filled voices coming from Alec's room.

"Oh, that is sooo good," Cactus moaned.

"It's just… amazing," CeCe echoed. "Alec you're… a god."

"Told ya," Alec responded, sounding a bit bored but superior. "Never doubt me."

"I won't ever again," CeCe gasped, her mouth sounding full. "I take back every rotten thing I said about you. Wow, I am actually drooling."

Max's eyes went wide with shock and dismay. CeCe and Alec? And Cactus was in there as well? Max had joked about a harem with him, well scolded actually, but to garner one this night—and to leave the door open so all could hear (or worse) more could join was going too far. Even for Alec.

"Me, too," Cactus laughed in a giddy fashion. "Oh, this is so good. I'm seriously rethinking my position on..."

"Speaking of positions," Alec began and scoffed. "Move to the left."

His voice sounded casual and detached. Max instantly stepped into the room and cleared her throat at the door, ready to tell them to have the decency to close the damn door. She thought she was ready for the sight.

She was not. She stood in the door way with her mouth gaping.

CeCe and Cactus sat on the floor of the sitting room surrounded by wrappers from a variety of junk food and candy. Several beer bottles sat on the coffee table and a bowl of popcorn half spilled, sat between them. From their positions, it appeared they were throwing it at each other, attempting to catch the kernels in their mouths. Alec was seated alone on the couch, paying neither woman any attention. His eyes were glued to the TV on the other side of the room in which two men appeared to be building a souped up muscle car and detailing it as part of a competition. Max blinked several times as the scene assaulted her senses.

"Hey, Max," CeCe said as a kernel of popcorn banked off her nose. "You have to try this. It's amazing: Popcorn with white chocolate and some kind of pepper on it. Sounds terrible, but once you try it… I mean… Wow."

She lofted a piece to Max, who instinctively caught it but did not put it in her mouth. She continued to stare at the gathering trying not to laugh at her conclusions and the giddiness she felt at being so very wrong.

"Agave," Alec grumbled and waved his hand directing her to move. "Come on. I've got great eyes, but I can't see the screen through your head. Move."

Cactus scowled at him but shifted slightly to her left to accommodate his line of sight. She looked at Max and rolled her eyes in a silent mock of her host's fascination with the program.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Max asked after a moment.

"We're raiding Alec's stash," CeCe said, taking a pull on her beer bottle. "Cactus gave him a makeover so he can be a pretty boy again, so this is her payment. I'm here because… he owes me… for like a hundred different things."

"Shh," Alec commanded, again signally with his hand that the TV was of more interest than his guests.

"Really Max, try the popcorn," CeCe encouraged. "I don't know where he got it, but it is amazing. It's nirvana in your mouth; it's better than an orgasm."

"Gotta disagree with you," Alec said, still watching the show. "If you think that's an orgasm, remind me to set you up with…"

He did not finish his statement as Cactus pelted him with some hard, orange candy, striking him squarely between the eyes. The hit jarred Alec from his trance with the TV causing him to look up and see Max.

"Never mind," he continued. "We'll talk later. Max, you want something or maybe someone? If it's either or both of these two, I'm free to watch."

Alec grinned as the two women on the floor leveled him with sour yet unsurprised glares. All three then looked to Max, awaiting instructions or a request. Max looked back at them unsure what to say.

"No, I was just… passing by," Max said vaguely.

"Oh shit," CeCe said, looking at her watch and jumping it. "I'm supposed to be on duty in 10 minutes. Alec, thanks for the goodies. You still owe me!"

Cactus watched her stand and depart. She scooped the remaining stay popcorn from the floor and dumped it into the bowl.

"I'd clean up more, but you hair is all over my room," she said with a wink. "You take care of this mess, and I'll go clean my place. See ya, Alec. 'Night, Max."

She departed and closed the door behind her, chancing a quick backward glance to see the look on Alec's face. There were times, she noted, when he looked at Max with an amazing amount of honesty; the player looking for a score or a deal was nowhere to be seen in those moments. However, his face was impassive and gave no indication of his mood.

Once alone, Max again surveyed the room. She shook her head at the clutter. Alec shrugged in response to her unasked question.

"Unbelievable," she huffed.

"I know," Alec agreed enthusiastically as he pointed at the TV. "Those two morons spent all that time on the paint job and hammer such a crappy engine into the car. I mean, running a muscle car on lean bio diesel? They may as well try to make it run on ketchup. The thing's gonna stall after about 10 starts, probably even seize the engine. It's barely a car anymore. It's large, shiny paperweight."

Max shook her head and reached for the remote. She punched the power button, sending it to sleep. Alec looked back at her surprised.

"That's not what I meant when I said unbelievable," Max said hotly.

"Oh, you mean those two," Alec replied and tossed the empty wrapper in the trash. "I know. They ate everything. It's kind of rude."

"No," she said sternly. "This. You."

"What?" he asked genuinely surprised. "What did I do?"

"What, who, you name it," she snapped. "This isn't a dorm room, Alec. It's not a frat party; it's not a social club. No one here is your personal staff."

"I didn't make Bugler get any of this," he said. "Sketchy had it delivered for me. Hey, you're the one who sent me out today."

Max sighed and shook her head.

"Do you get how serious our situation is?" she asked. "This isn't a rave, Alec. This is our base. We're a team here."

"I know," he nodded. "Several of them were just here clearing out my fridge."

"Yeah about that," she said. "Don't even think about turning this place into your personal flesh playground. I expect better of you. After all, you've been out in the world longer than a lot of these people."

"Not true," he said. "Max, I left Manticore when they did."

"You spent a lot more time outside Manticore while it was still operational," she said hotly. "You're more real world savvy. So here it is, my one and only offer: Grow up or get out."

"Out?" he scoffed. "You're throwing me out of Terminal City because we had a few beers and ate junk food on a school night?"

"How about your behavior last night?" she asked. "Laying it on pretty hot and heavy with the doctor, weren't you?"

"When did harmless flirting jeopardize the safety of this place?" he asked flabbergasted. "Max, it's been my experience that if you flirt with the cute nurse, they like you. If they like you, the stitches tend to be smaller and the needles don't get jammed quite so hard into you. That's just survival skills at work."

"Uh huh, what about Cactus?" she asked. "You mean to tell me I didn't see you skulking into her room earlier to get your…"

"Hair cut," he finished her sentence, then ruffled his fingers through his hair. "She cut my hair, Max."

She looked at him and registered it. His hair was shorter, cut in a flattering style that made her wonder what other skills Cactus might have. Max nodded, accepting the explanation.

"You saw me go into her room?" he asked and cocked his head to the side. "Why are you spying me?"

"Spying?" she scoffed. "More like babysitting. These people will follow your lead, Alec. You need to set an example. If I can't trust you to be a good example, what else am I supposed to do?"

"Expect less of me?" he suggested. "Come on, Max. I've been back for 24 hours. How much damage could I have done?"

"I never know with you," she sighed and dropped onto the couch. She tipped her head forward and held it in her hands. "I want to trust you, Alec, but I need you to prove to me that I should."

Alec rubbed his hand over his neck then sat beside her, considering her words. He sighed heavily and looked at her with a serious expression.

"I would say you can trust me, but you know me and I know you," he shrugged. "My word isn't going to do it. You want the truth? Yeah, I think you should trust me, but you're gonna have to make up your own mind."

"I'll probably regret it," she murmured shaking her head as she looked at him sideways. _It really was an attractive haircut_, she thought, then scolded herself to stay on topic.

"Probably, but it'll give you something else to feel guilty about so you've got that going for you," he nodded and grinned at her. She looked back at him flatly. "Maxie, loosen up. You need to enjoy life more, you know that?"

"Not everything is a party or a big score or the next conquest," she said sourly.

"No, but it's not all gloom and doom and bad memories either," he counseled. "Balance, grasshopper. Look at me: Same crappy upbringing as you—a bit worse maybe because you got to run away from home—but do you see it dragging me down? No, of course you don't. I know how to have a good time, how to kick back and how to relax."

"You don't take anything seriously, and you do everything you can to avoid responsibility," Max replied. "Some soldier you are."

"They didn't train me to play nice with others," he said soberly. "They trained me to deceive, infiltrate, eliminate and disappear. I think hustling pool, having a laugh with others, zoning out to a movie and spending time with hot chicks is an improvement from what I learned private school, don't you?"

Max shook her head. He was right. It was an inconvenient truth that, despite all of his aggravating extracurricular activities, they were still a sight better than what he was trained to do. She offered him a flat and defeated expression. Alec laughed.

"Oh stop with the pouting," he grinned. "You don't always have to fight to make your point, Max. Sometimes, you can just say what you need to say and be done with it. It would do you a lot of good to relax you know."

"Relax?" she repeated. "Yeah, if only."

"You want that?" he asked. "Seriously, I'm not making a joke here. What do you want to do?"

"Want?" she shook her head. "I don't have time for 'want.' I'm in-charge."

Alec sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to look at him directly. He fixed her with an honest expression that contained both care and worry.

"You're doing a good job, Max," he said solemnly. "You know that, right? If no one has told you that, then let me be first. Despite how crazy things seem, this place is holding up. These people listen to you. For now."

"For now?" she repeated.

"You don't blow off some steam, you're gonna crack up or start ripping heads off for no good reason," he prophesied. "It'll happen if you don't take a minute to breath or give yourself a break. Trust me, you start acting like that, and people will be a lot less understanding and supportive. Sometimes, being a good leader means leaving your people alone. Let them choose to follow you rather than having you bark at them all the time. You keep that up, and they'll start to think you don't trust them."

"I just said I don't trust you," she pointed out.

"Well, I'm a special case," he offered. "Do you trust them?"

Max offered him an exasperated look then twisted her lips as she thought for a moment. After a few seconds of contemplation, she sighed and her shoulders drooped.

"I do, I guess," she said. "I just… I convinced them to stand with me, and it's my job to protect them."

Alec looked at the worry in her eyes and heard the fear in her voice. He understood it to a point, but she was forgetting the biggest piece of the puzzle, the one thing that landed them in this toxic dump but also made it possible for them to remain there.

"You're the unelected mayor of a town of super heroes," Alec laughed. "How much protection do you think they need, seriously? They're gonna do what they're gonna do, Max. You be the example they need to follow. Do your passive warrior fighting for equality and all that. They'll listen as long as they think you're worth listening to; start acting like a dictator and they are headed to Mexico or Canada or… I don't know, Cuba. Wherever. You're not their drill sergeant. You're their voice, their conscience, which (frankly) kind of sucks if we're trying to have a good time because you are an amazing buzz kill."

The side of her mouth curled reluctantly. She looked up to spy him grinning at her. Max shook her head and jabbed him playfully, making him grin. She smiled at him cautiously as she regarded him with a thoughtful expression.

"What's the look?" he asked.

"Nothing," she shook her head after a moment. "Just that you sounded a little like Logan or something Logan might say."

Alec shook his head and wrinkled his nose at the comparison. He knew she meant it as a compliment and on some level he took it as one, but showing that was not something he was prepared to do. In that instance, his discussion with Brezhenski came back to him.

"You'll be talking with old Doc B soon, I guess," he said feeling a sinking feeling in his chest as he lifted his beer. "Once she's finished with her voodoo, Logan can be the one giving you these pep talks. Of course, he'll probably use bigger words. That'll be good… for both of you."

He nodded slowly then put the bottle to his lips, cursing in his head silently that he ever found the scientist and brought her back in the first place.

**# # # #**

Max stood in the lab three floors below street level at BioCorp. The room was sickly lit by bright fluorescent lights. The walls were a nauseous sea green and the room smelled of sulphur and some other acrid compound. Whether it was day or night outside was a mystery in the lab. Max knew it was evening, but only because she watched the sun sinking weakly as she and Logan entered the secure lobby of the pharmaceutical company's offices. They were present to have their first joint meeting with the reknown and illegally present Russian scientist.

The woman was cragged and rough in many ways. She was blunt in her words and manners, but Max appreciated that. The woman did not sugar coat anything and seemed unphased by both the virus and the fact the person carrying it was not fully human. Brezhenski didn't even look at Max with the same fascination other doctors had whenever they discovered who and what she was. Instead, the scientist focused on her plan for the cure, laying it out succinctly as though it was a fact rather than a theory.

"So, that's all it will take?" Max asked when Brezhenski finished. "Sounds a little too simple."

"No," Brezhenski said. "Is difficult, before. Many years. Much research in the past. Now, is simple."

The confidence, bordering on boredom, in the woman's face was encouraging. She was certain.

"So all you need to do is to brew this thing and mix it with serum that BioCorp already has?" Max shrugged. "Easy peasy."

"In basic terms, yeah, I guess," Logan nodded but spoke in a tone filled with reservation. "Are you really okay with this, Max? I mean, this is kind of a big deal and if it doesn't work…"

"Then the doc here took a cruise with Alec for no reason," she shrugged.

"Well, there's that," he nodded. "I was thinking more along the line of the moral implication of creating a viable embryo and putting it in a blender for no good reason."

"A cure seems like a pretty good reason," Max said.

"But if it doesn't work," Logan began. "Max, you understand what she's going to do. This is conception we're talking about; granted, it's in test tube, but it's…"

"It's an experiment," she nodded. "Got that."

"You don't have any reservations?" Logan asked with surprise. Max shook her head. "It doesn't give you a moment of pause or hesitation?"

"No," she shook her head. "I've been carrying around this bitch for nearly two years. Time for it to go. Why, you have an issue with doing this?"

"Uh, yeah, I do," he replied. "I mean, if it doesn't work, we'll have essentially sacrificed a baby, our baby, for this. I'm not in the habit of doing something like that lightly. I knocked a robin's nest out of a tree with a baseball by accident when I was a kid. The eggs all broke. I couldn't sleep for nearly a week afterward—and those were just birds and it was an accident. This… this a person and we're doing it on purpose."

"No," Brezhenski said. "No person. Cells only."

"Well, that's one view," Logan replied. "Look, I'm liberal on a woman's right to choose the reproductive course for her body, but that doesn't mean I think creating one life just to sacrifice it for another is a good thing."

"Is not a moral issue," Brezhenski shook her head. "Is science. Also, is not sacrifice. Is inevitable. The virus this woman carries will kill the cells if protein enzymes cannot protect. Will fail to thrive and become embryo. Nothing is lost as nothing was created."

Logan looked at Brezhenski with a pained expression. He liked her explanation, but he was not certain he should. Max, he was still surprised to see, did not seem bothered by this solution. It seemed odd as he had watched her deal with children, that of her 'sibling' Tinga and others, with such a depth of caring that he had presumed she liked children and wanted them; if that was true, he thought, shouldn't this bother her?

"Sounds fine by me," she said casually. "What do you need to do now?"

**# # # #**

Max walked on weak knees up the stairs to her room at TC. She put on a good face for Logan as he drove her to the safe site for her to re-enter the fenced former industrial site. She had done well. He kept looking for evidence that she was in pain or needed assistance (not that he could give her much as he did not have a pair of gloves with him). She did feel fine in the car. She was a little light-headed from the shot Brezhenski gave her and the procedure she conducted thereafter to start harvesting the necessary bits from her ovaries. Max shuddered as she recalled the length of the needle used.

"Whoa," Alec called then pounded down the stairway as he saw her falter in her ascent. "You alright?"

He maneuvered his shoulder under her arm and propped her up to keep her from falling. She was ashen and looked drained. He held her in place for a minute, looking into her eyes to see if those looked dazed or needlessly dilated.

"I'm fine," she said, shrugging him off as she grabbed the handrail.

"What happened?" he asked, remaining close.

"Your Frankenstein bitch jabbed me with a big honking needle," Max growled and rubbed her hand on her side where the pain was most acute.

"You went to see Sveta," he nodded. "She attack you when you weren't nice?"

The words, on their face, could be taken as sarcasm, but the look on his face and the sincerity in his tone stated he was not joking and believed it definitely possible.

"No," Max huffed. "She started working on this cure. She had to… take some… cells from me. She's getting some of Logan's, too. She thinks this will work."

"Oh," Alec said, stepping back and leaning on the opposite rail. "Well, congrats."

The way he said the word told Max he knew about the cure. This did not exactly surprise her. He spent many weeks with Brezhenski. Surely the task at hand had come up. Considering the doctor's lack of a personality, it was likely she spoke about her approach to engineering the cure. What surprised Max was the look on Alec's face. She wasn't sure if it was disappointment or dismay. It was, she realized, a bit similar to the expression on Logan's face as he learned what Brezhenski planned to do.

"What?" she snapped as his stare grew uncomfortable.

"This doesn't bother you?" Alec asked. "You or your boyfriend's fine sensibilities?"

"Not really, no," she said. "Technology did this to us so technology can get us out of it. Seems like karma to me."

"I think we have a very different understanding of karma," Alec shook his head as he rolled his eyes. "This is bad mojo, Max."

"This is a cure, Alec, not a weapon," she said.

"It's mixing a DNA cocktail to…," he began.

"Since when do you have anything against that?" she asked.

"You're creating this thing, an X-5 human hybrid," he said. "It's another mutant."

"There are a couple in this world already and they haven't ended life as we know it," she said. "Look, as far as this endeavor goes, no one is going to give birth to it. It'll be a couple cells in a Petri dish. They blend it with some of the protein strains BioCorp created to eliminate all those other viruses that kept mutating, like HIV and swine flu. After a few doses, Logan and I have a cure. I won't be a lethal weapon to him anymore. You don't think Logan deserves to live without a loaded gun pointing at his head?"

She snarled at him aggressively. She didn't exactly know why she was mad at Alec. Sure, this wasn't any of his business, and the idea of him being righteous or seeing anything questionable or immoral was laughable, but there was something more. There was something else in his expression she did not understand. She couldn't diagnose it. Was it shame? Disappointment? Betrayal? The frustration this caused stoked her pain-induced anger. She scowled at him and dared him to question her further.

"I don't care what you think or what your objections are, Alec," she said in nasty tone. "What I do with my life and my body and whatever my body produces is none of your concern. This isn't about you so stay the hell out of it. Got it?"

"Got it," he said coldly. "None of my business."

He continued down the stairs without a backward glance. She heard him slam the door to the floor below then swore violently to herself. She knew she should not have snapped at him. Not that he had any reason to be interested or involved in her decision. Nor did it make sense that he took offense to her tone or words. She said had worse to him the previous night.

She turned gingerly and looked down the now empty stairwell. She wondered if she should go after him and offer a partial apology—at least for the bitchy tone—but her body was letting her know trekking across the compound was not a priority. Laying down was because, in addition to harvesting some of her ova, the doctor also injected her with hormones to stimulate additional production as she suspected a second round of harvesting would be needed. This necessitated the increased egg production, which meant stimulating her body to go into heat. Luckily, the doctor was also prepared to offer Max some relief from the effects of the process. BioCorp, she learned, began first in veterinary research. A very healthy dose of some other suspension or blocker of some sort would calm all of Max's urges while the cycle progressed. The only side effect would be fatigue.

Glad for the chance to finally sleep, drug induced or otherwise, Max climbed the final stairs to the third floor and made it laboriously to her room where she crawled gratefully into bed and promptly fell asleep.

**# # # #**

Alec stalked through the building headed in no specific direction. His mood was dark and his jaw clenched tight as the reality of Max's situation shouted at him nastily in his head.

_This is pointless_, Alec shook his head. _Why the hell does it matter how the doc cures this thing?_

It didn't, he knew, not scientifically. Not really. It was more the knowledge that there would be a cure than the means through which it would be achieved, he supposed. After all, Alec didn't usually wrestle with the greater good and morality issues. That wasn't his bag. Other people could worry themselves over that stuff. He was the type to focus on what was in front of him and what impacted him directly. And, he reminded himself, it was a little hypocritical, being offended by science engineering and manipulating life for a targeted purpose. Although, when he thought about his existence now in comparison to the virus keeping Logan and Max apart, he felt fairly insignificant. What was he other than just a collection of hand-picked cells that was the chemically manipulated permitted to survive?

Except, there was that one obvious difference: He was permitted to survive. Alec wasn't one to dwell on whether there was a point or a purpose to his existence. He had one when he was a Manticore soldier. Then Manticore was gone and he was… what? A rogue agent? A mercenary? A genetic freak with plenty of desirable skills but no mission?

Max had given him a mission, given all of them one. Live a life. They wanted to be free of oppression; they didn't want to be tools of a secret organization and they didn't want to be treated like freaks. They were, essentially, people. They should be allowed to co-exist with the others who weren't cooked up in a lab. At least, that's what she said she wanted.

Alec realized that was likely about to change, and that was the thing making him apprehensive. Logan was making miraculous strides in gaining (the trangenics, at least) acceptance in society. They would still be considered freaks, likely feared by many and blamed for a great number of things, but they would be considered close enough to human to be permitted to walk around without wearing shackles or being considered fair game for anyone with a gun who spotted a barcode on a neck. If Logan's soothing words of wisdom and Brezhenski's remedy took hold, Max was going to have a chance at that life she said she wanted for all of them: to be normal. She could find a real home outside of the chemical cesspool of TC. She could have a job (if she wanted one and could find one). She could have friends and perhaps even a real family.

Family. That's the part that gnawed at him. She could have one, a real family, not her sad little concept of siblings based on their Manticore pedigrees. They weren't family. They were fellow prisoners. Logan, he would be her family. He was the type. The kind that would propose to her as soon as he knew putting the ring on her finger wouldn't make him drop dead. Meanwhile, Alec would have to stand by and watch her…

"Alec?" came a loud voice and seriously pungent breath. The adamancy of the tone told Alec this was not the first time he had been addressed.

"What?" he asked, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

"Alec lost," Joshua said.

"No," he shook his head and looked around the corridor knowing precisely where he was. "I've been here before, Joshua."

"Not lost out here," Joshua said softly and touched Alec's temple as his dark eyes were filled with sympathy. "Lost in here. Much sadness."

"Sadness?" Alec scoffed. "Me? No. What makes you say that?"

"Look sad," Joshua observed. "Like lost best friend."

"Well, that's the benefit of not having any friends," Alec replied. "Nothing to lose."

"Joshua Alec's friend," he said placing a warm, paw-like hand on his shoulder. "Tell Joshua why Alec sad?"

"I'm not sad," Alec said testily as he shook his head.

"Looking for Max," Joshua replied. Alec looked at him strangely until he realized the transhuman was asking him a question rather than making an observation.

"Try her room," he said. "She just got back from a visit with Logan and the mad scientist."

"All better soon," Joshua nodded and smiled joyfully. "Get busy with Logan."

"Yeah, that'll be awesome," Alec scowled as he looked down and jammed his hands into his pockets.

He grumbled a sound of annoyance as he stalked away. He nearly collided with Bullet, who was standing in the hall, waiting to catch Alec's attention. Seeing the dark look on his face, the teen transgenic opted to hold off his question for later. Instead, he looked to Joshua for some insight.

"Who spit in his Cheerios?" Bullet asked.

"No spit," Joshua sighed. "Alec sad."

"Sad?" he asked. "What for?"

"So much, in here," Joshua said touching his own chest around his heart. "Sad. Lost again."

"What did he lose?" Bullet asked. "A bet?"

"More important than bet," Joshua said. "His heart."

"Someone took his…," the teen began. "He's still got one; you mean something else. Like what? Some girl he was checking out isn't interested or something like that?"

"Or something like that," Joshua nodded. "Must watch Alec."

"Why?" Bullet asked as the big man started to walk away. "Is there trouble?"

"Yes," Joshua said loping away. "Much trouble in Alec. Dangerous."

"What danger?" he called. "Danger to us? Who?"

"Alec," Joshua shook his head as he disappeared down the corridor.

**# # # #**

Duty. Discipline. Mission.

The words flashed before Alec's eyes like some sadistic strobe of his earliest memories. He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to rub away the visions. His skin felt prickly and yet clammy. He needed to keep moving and keep his limbs loose. Sitting still would be like suffocating. He maintained a steady but not speedy pace. He climbed the stairs to the roof and let the cool, damp night air soak into his skin. He thought it might jar the agitated feelings, but it did not. The urge to keep moving, faster and farther, was strong. Without a thought, his legs propelled him off the edge of the roof, onto the fire escape of the neighboring building. He climbed to the top of that roof and across to the opposite side. He had no destination; he just needed to out run his thoughts.

Those words. Those damn words.

Duty. His duty was to do was he was told at Manticore. He did. Usually. He was severely punished by them when he didn't, but that was nothing compared to what he did to himself. Trying to forget only made the pain of his failure, what he had done to Rachel, seem deeper and harsher. It had happened because he lacked discipline.

Discipline. The word he had the hardest time with, always. He decided long ago, long before fire consumed Manticore, long before he ever met Max, that there was something wrong with him because he just couldn't follow through, not always. It was defect in his program, he was certain. He played it off as a lack of care or concern, but he knew, deep down, it was a fatal flaw. It got people killed. How it had not resulted in his own demise yet was a mystery and one that (he would never admit to anyone) he did wonder about on those nights when sleep would not come.

Mission. It all came down to that word. Was the mission just? Did that matter? Who decided what it was and when it was accomplished? Mission equaled purpose. Purpose meant a reason to go on. Alec was unsure of his. He wondered if it was because he did not truly have one. The operative known as X5-494 had one. Someone else determined it for him, but he was gone now. Or was he?

Muddled and troubling thoughts like this filled his mind to the point that he paid very little attention to where he was going. When he finally paused to consider that, he found himself well outside the perimeter of TC. Glancing around, he saw he was in Market Street—hardly the wisest place for a transgenic to be, but it was at least night so while the bustle and commerce of the promenade was slightly less, there was sparse light to help identify him should anyone peek near the collar of his now damp sweatshirt.

"What in name of Jezebel's vajayjay are you doing here?" the shocked and slightly worried voice of Original Cindy sounded in his ear as she gripped his arm tightly.

"Hey," he said, looking at her with some surprise. "What are you doing here? A little far from home, aren't you?"

"I could say the same for you," she whispered harshly as he dragged him deeper into the shadows on the sidewalk. "I heard how you was not living under the sea, but traipsing around here without a sector pass and sporting your special ink is a good way to get dead, Alec."

He shrugged, not sure how or if he could explain what led him to the spot. It wasn't a conscious choice. He just started moving and wound up there. OC could see the indecision on his face. She gripped his arm tightly and marched him to a well-kept stoop where she fished out a set of keys and entered the building. They tramped in silence up two flights of stairs to a simple white door, which after another set of keys, swung in with a whisper. Inside was a small sitting room with a lot of loud posters on the walls. Some were from long-past political campaigns another caused Alec to stop and stare as he felt queasy.

"Tell me this is your new place," he remarked, knowing based on the rest of the fussy décor, that it was not. "Please, tell me this is not…"

OC stood beside him grinning as she too looked at the way to the framed drawing of cage fighting champion Monty Cora. She nodded and made a deep sound in her throat have way between a chuckle and a gag.

"Normal's digs, boy," she cackled. "You is the best part of his set up."

Alec reached for the picture and was prepare to break it when OC grabbed his arm and shook a warning finger at him.

"Super powers or not, I will whup yo tight white ass like we was in a club and you forgot yo safety word," she said firmly. "This is a good gig for me, a'ight? Normal is in Portland for a few days and asked me to watch his fish. Anything is damaged or missing and he will fire Original Cindy for good."

"Then I'll burn the whole building down and he'll think it was an accident," Alec groaned. He didn't think he could feel worse about the world or his life until he saw this. "You can't tell me that doesn't give you the heebs."

"And the jeebs," OC nodded. "Still, it's his so leave it. Now, what are you doing wandering around in the heart of least friendly trans-anything zone?"

"Just… walking," he shrugged as his eyes automatically scanned the room for anything valuable. He saw nothing.

"Just walking?" she repeated. "Alec, you a better liar than that. What's going on? You look like someone stole your puppy."

He shrugged and said nothing. OC folded her arms testily and directed Alec, with her eyes, to sit on the couch. He did so reluctantly. The poster was centered in front of the couch. He worried why Normal placed it there and what he might do on the couch while staring at it. He shuddered at the thought. As if reading his thoughts, OC lifted the poster from its hook and placed it on the floor facing the wall.

"Better?" OC asked. Alec shrugged then nodded. "Good, now what is wrong with you? Don't tell me nothing because I am not stupid nor am I blind. In fact, I think I know what's eating you: Max."

Alec looked back at her without surprise. She knew Max better than anyone, except maybe Logan. She was her roommate for nearly a year and apparently Max shared a great deal with OC. She was not, however, an expert on Alec despite her confidence.

"When isn't Max a pain my ass," he said. "I'm just not… She's not impressed with my behavior."

"What else is new?" OC asked and looked at him closely. "Oh, is that it?"

"What?" he asked. "I didn't say anything."

"Not with your words, but with your face," she nodded. "Yeah, I saw this coming a while back."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alec replied.

"Sketchy gave me the letter you delivered from Max," she said. "You didn't open it?"

"She said not to," Alec shrugged. "Plus, it was just a letter—to you no less. Wouldn't be anything valuable in it. What could Max have to say to you that would matter to me?"

OC shook her head and sighed. It wouldn't have mattered if he did read it. It was cryptic and only made sense if the reader had been sitting at the table with OC and Max the night she revealed her fears of Alec's demise. The letter was more than simply telling OC that Alec was indeed alive, but also had a lot back peddling and excuse making for why the thought he had died effected her so much and how everything was back to normal with her being angry at him for his lack of morals and propriety. Thinking of the text of the letter and looking at Alec, lonesome and sullen, OC shook her head.

"Okay, you obviously as lady-stupid as your are pretty so Original Cindy gonna have to lay some stone cold on yo dumb superhero ass," OC said tersely. "Shut up. Stop playing. Stop hiding and stop lying."

"Hiding? I'm not… And I haven't lied about…," he began but was halted as she pinched his lips closed with her sharp and highly polished nails.

"Don't," she shook her head slowly. "Do not lay some lame and limp line on me. I know you. I know when you being Alec and when you being Mr. Barcode. I don't got time or interest in speaking my truth on your genetically enhanced ego so send that freak away and leave nervous little Alec out here to play. Don't you worry. Original Cindy will take care of him and see he don't get hurt."

Alec looked at her with a flat expression. When the determination in her stare did not waver, he sighed and shrugged.

"Better," she nodded. "You out here in the forbidden country because you are hiding. As for the lying, you doin' it to yourself, which is making you lie to her."

"How?" he asked.

"Being an ass for one," she said plainly. Alec opened his mouth to object then shrugged and nodded. "Uh huh. I know, it comes natural to you. You can't always help it, but you're better than that when you want to be. So why you acting like you some alley cat who gotta give his business to every stray he comes across? That is gonna land you out in the cold with nowhere to go."

"Yeah, she said I'm on double secret probation at TC," he grumbled. "I don't get it. I haven't done anything."

"I know you ain't, but you makin' it seem like you is," she said firmly. "Ergo: Lying."

"Okay, not that I'm mad you believe me, but how do you know that I…?" he began.

"How do I know you ain't doin' any givin' or receivin' of transcendental or transgenic lovin'?" she cut him off. "Because, despite that little tattoo on yo' neck that stamps you all super juiced under the skin, you still a man. Original Cindy knows about mens. All y'all function the same way, and I can tell when you ain't getting' anything, and you sure as rain on Monday ain't. Alec, I can see you ain't even seriously looking for it."

"I'm not?" he inquired.

"No, 'cause if you was, you wouldn't be here getting bitch slapped by one of the few women in this city who don't look at you like you was a piece of candy they want to suck," she said harshly but kindly pet his damp hair to soften the realization that his cover was blown.

"Seriously?" he asked. "You can tell all that by just sitting here?"

"Never doubt the power of an honest sister who says she knows mens," she remarked. "Your heart and neither of your heads was in those little flirty maneuvers you threw down on those barcode bitches in your space. Oh yes, I know the truth about you, Alec. You not interested in giving it to anyone anymore because you all achin' and bleedin' inside 'bout the one straight girl in this town who wouldn't take it if you gave it to her along with a rose, chocolate, diamonds and a workin' hot tub."

Alec looked back at her impassively and considered laughing, but the seriousness in her eyes and the hint of compassion in her voice stopped him cold. It raised a lump in his throat.

"You know about that?" he wondered.

"Tru dat," she nodded. "I also know that's why you want Max to think you still playin' with a stable of honeys. You doin' it to make her want some of that action. Listen to me, Sugar, it ain't gonna work. I mean, what are you, some kind of teenage drama queen? You been watching too much TV aimed at stupid girls who think they need some crisis to get attention."

"This is awesome, really, OC," he quipped. "We should do this more often. You ever considered working a suicide hotline?"

"Quit the jokin'," OC said. "If you wasn't so stuck on flashin' around and strutting all 'look at me' style for her, maybe you'd have noticed that you already got her attention, boy. Now, the question is: What you want did you intend to do with it?"

Alec didn't know. He knew what he wanted to do with Max; he'd been fairly honest about that many times. That she didn't take him seriously was another matter. But, he wondered and not for the first time, did he truly want to do with Max? The thought of a relationship that lasted more than a few days was foreign to him. Life was impermanent and looking for something that lasted was contrary to the natural order in his experience. Then again, he reasoned, he'd never had anything permanent other than a bed at Manticore until he met Max. He had not re-examined a lot of his beliefs; he wasn't even sure how to at this point.

"Is it so wrong to just want… her?" he asked plainly.

"That depends," OC shrugged. "You want her for a few minutes, an hour, a night, a day?"

"For as long as she'll have me," he replied without thinking.

OC looked at him in surprise. She blinked and shirked in an exaggerated fashion as she shook her head.

"Did you practice that line?" she asked. "I can usually tell when you getting' all Lothario. Right now, you got me wondering."

"I didn't know there was a pop quiz," he said defensively. "Just… Forget I said anything."

"Oh my poor, sad, stupid brother," she sighed and shook her head as she pet his hair again. "You is screwed and not the kind you were hoping for."

"Oh, well, thanks," Alec scoffed.

"No, I feel sorry for you because your dealio is jacked," OC said. "You were straight up with Cindy just now. I can feel the righteous. But you know as well as I do that Max is half-way to forever land with Logan. She may see you, but she just ain't the type to stop the car to check out any roadside attractions. I'm sorry. You mighta had a chance if you'd have met her first, but now…"

OC pat him on the arm and offered him a sympathetic face.

"For what it's worth, I think Logan is good for her and he'll be good to her, but I think you could have been good for her, too," OC said. "I can see what she did for you; you got a little more righteous for her. Do yourself a favor, Alec, don't be back sliding to who you were before just because you can't be with your girl."

Her words stung, primarily because they were true. He pulled away from her and stood up. He moved to the door and placed his hand on the door knob. He looked over his shoulder morosely and responded.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alec said as he left Normal's apartment. "It's like you said, she's not my girl."

**# # # #**

Max stayed in bed for the rest of that evening. She dragged herself, sore and yawning, to the control room the next morning and sat at her desk, occasionally dozing. As there was very little in the way of interest or action in TC, no one really noticed that she was not on her game. Not that she minded being ignored. She only had so much trust in Brezhenski's meds that were supposed to keep her from muckling onto the first male who crossed her path. She was both glad, and slightly concerned, that that person didn't end up being Alec. In fact, she only saw him from afar during those days. She suspected he was avoiding her following their verbal jousting in the stairway. It wasn't like him to sulk and avoid further confrontation, but she was too tired to dwell on those thoughts. Besides, she yawned, Alec was on her mind too much anyway. She had more than one dream in which it was he, not Logan, who was the prime target for her affections and attentions.

The next few days passed by with no major events. Logan called twice to forecast yet another positive turn for the TC residents as more testimony in front of the senate was leaking out to show how the Manticore project may have been in part an effort to combat White's genocidal maniacs. New outlets were now pointing the sharp tip of their spear at the Familiars and taking their eyes off the transgenics and transhumans. According to Logan, this was a seismic shift that could not be undervalued. Max yawned, thanked him and then ended the transmission. She'd feel the winds of change as soon as the guns trained on her home by the military were mothballed again.

When the fatigue ended, she was able to shake herself fully awake and assess their situation again. Logan, this time with an in person visit, again reported progress in their favor. There was an awkwardness to the first moments of their meeting. He asked stiltedly if she felt alright, but they did not make reference to any progress Brezhenski might be making as neither had heard a word. Instead, Max dove directly into the reason behind his visit: BioCorp and an astounding offer born out of the sliver of acceptance their kind appeared to be attaining in light of the growing fear of the Familiars. Max was able to appreciate this finally. She was also interested in the details of offer from BioCorp that Logan brought. They had a chance to show that they were not blood-thirsty beasts but were warriors, protectors, if given a reason to do so.

She held several satellite meetings with the leaders at BioCorp about their request for assistance. She considered it thoroughly and made up her mind. She then called a meeting of those who had become her top advisors, a small group of TC inhabitants who loosely formed their chain of command. They included Alec, CeCe, Joshua and Mole. She was not surprised when Joshua chose to sit in the corner and say nothing. She was surprised when the opposition to helping out a fleet of Ordinary scientists did not come from Mole but rather from Alec.

"Yes, well here in the _Untied_ States of America…," Alec began with an arrogant tone.

"United," Max interrupted him with a correction. She spoke with an edge in her voice that let everyone know she was not happy with the challenges presented in this meeting. "It's the United States, Alec, not the _Untied_ States."

She grinned at him superiorly. He returned an identical expression.

"You haven't traveled around this country much, have you?" he remarked. "Not a hell of a lot that unites these people, I mean other than fear and hatred of us."

"Your point?" Logan inquired, rubbing is temples. The continuing verbal skirmishes between Max and Alec were dragging the meeting into its second hour.

"I'm just saying it won't work," he shrugged. "You think because a few politicians make some speeches on the news—the news that Eyes Only regularly broadcasts no one can trust mind you—that suddenly we're all getting club jackets and going to be shown the secret handshake?"

"No, I'm saying they are willing to form an alliance that will lead to that," Logan said, repeating the essences of his report to the room for the third time. "If you had listened when I was speaking earlier…"

"Oh, I listened," Alec said. "I like the part where you said we get to protect their asses now—like some of us hadn't done that already."

"I meant that…," Logan began but stopped as Alec scoffed and continued to voice his offense.

"See, 'cause I recall getting my ass shot at in Kandahar," he reported. "I recall being sent to places where the military—the folks who are supposed to protect your assets—wouldn't or couldn't go. Tell me, Logan, what did you do for kicks when you were 17? Get a driver's license maybe? Pull an all-nighter after the big game at school and hope to hell your buddy's parents wouldn't find out you raided the liquor cabinet? Know what I did for fun? Nothing. Why? Because I wasn't allowed to have fun. Instead, I was sent to a sand-swept hell populated by poppy brokering warlords so I could interrupted a deal between them and guys who strap bombs to kids' chests then send them into crowded market places where our, sorry, _your_ soldiers often patrol. Since that apparently doesn't count, please explain to me exactly how I am now supposed to show my loyalty to these people and start protecting _their_ country."

"Alec, they get it," Max sighed.

"No, they don't," he shook his head. "They don't get it because you're letting him do the talking for us, and he doesn't get it. Hell, you're our leader, and I'm not so sure that you get it."

"Alec," CeCe murmured in a warning tone. "Calm down."

"You agree with me, don't you?" he asked. "About the whole they don't get it part? She thinks every damn thing Manticore did was vile and evil and should never have happened. Yeah, a lot of it sucked, sucked out loud—no arugment—but not all of it. We did a few things that mattered. You damn well know we did, CeCe."

He glared at her, daring her to disagree. CeCe looked from Alec to Max then shrugged and nodded. She looked apologetically to Max.

"He's right, about them not getting that we're not the enemy," she said. "I've worked overseas and in cities in this country to disrupt gangs making deals with sleeper cells. I never did anything that threatened the welfare of this nation—my nation."

"Except flouting of the Constitution and the usurpation of the power vested in the people by a secret military complex that basically made up the rules as it went along and appropriated billions in tax payer funds to support those nefarious deeds," Logan said. "That's how they see this whole project."

"Oh, thank god he's worrying about national budget and the constitution again," Alec scoffed. "For a second, I was worried we were going to be focusing on our right to exist and be according basic human rights. _Whew_. Close one. Oh, and hey, thanks for downgrading us from people to projects. I feel much better about being treated like a tool now."

"The secrecy and monetary deceptions involving Manticore and the fear about transgenics are not mutually exclusive issues, Alec," Logan said. "You, as much as anyone in this room, knows that money is the magic bullet."

"Yeah, well, I can do a hell of a lot more damage with a bullet than I can a bank account," Alec grumbled as he ran his hand angrily through his hair.

"Comments like that are why we can't let just anyone speak on our behalf," Max growled. "Now, Logan brought us good news. This is a chance for us to gain acceptance."

"Because they're more afraid of White and his cult than they are of us," CeCe summarized.

"Awesome," Alec nodded. "We're the least scary nuts in the asylum." Logan and Max looked at him with differing levels of disappointment and impatience. "What? You prefer least psychotic murderers in the prison? Hey, I'm just a project here who is trying to get on board with your philosophy and political ass-covering schemes. What do you think, Mole? You've been awful quiet during this."

The transhuman had been quiet, too quiet, all noted. He sat at the far end of the table, surveying the scene with a cold and expressionless gaze. He nodded for a few seconds then looked at Logan.

"You trust them?" Mole asked Logan. "You really think those pansies in-charge want to throw in with us, share everything they know equally? Will they actually run interference with the uglies of your kind who still want hunting permits for us so they can hang our heads on the walls like trophies?"

The whole room turned to Logan with interested stares. He thought for a moment as he looked at his hands. When he looked up he shrugged then shook his head.

"Truth?" Logan replied. "No, not entirely. I mean, yes, I think now that they know about White and his people and how far up in the government they got so they're scared. They seriously want some help in the form of guys who can dodge bullets and don't need any new training. But do they think of you all as expendable? Yes, better to spill your blood than that of their sons and daughters. Will they be upfront with us about all they know? Probably not; after all, they're still afraid of you in a lot of ways. Will they insure everyone suddenly sees you guys as the white hats, unlikely. They'll put a good spin on you, which is more than you'll get if you don't hop on board with them. I think they'll still give themselves some deniability in case this partnership goes wrong. Bottom line, in the choice between White's empire of doom and your ragtag band of merry men, they'll take you guys."

"Works for me," Mole said firmly.

"Wait," Alec gaped at Mole. "You're buying this?"

"Any port in a storm, kid," he said, chomping on his cigar. "We can't outlast their military if they choose to come at us full throttle, and we certainly can't go after White and the cult if we've gotta worry about the people we are helping protect trying to kill us as well. It's a shit sandwich no matter how you cut it."

"You're just hoping they'll cut off t he crusts and it served on nice china?" Alec shook his head.

"Remember your damn level two training you dumb ass," Mole snarled. "Enemy of my enemy is my friend…"

"Until he turns on me and I have to put a K-bar through his cervical spine," Alec finished. Then looked at Logan. "Talk about a bitch of a pop quiz. You had to make sure you'd studied for that one."

"Exactly," Mole growled. "We take the deal we've got now and if they turn on us, we show them what it's like to get hunted down by..."

"Enough," Max said, watching the two soldiers eyeing each other and nodding in cold, murderous agreement on revenge. "I'm not putting this to a vote. I'm making the call here. I wanted you to know, to hear what I was told that informed my decision. I'm agreeing that we'll do this. I'll be asking for volunteers, but if you don't at least support any part of it, you can walk away from TC now. If you stay, you're agreeing to get on board with this. Got it?"

"If we leave, they'll hunt us down," CeCe ventured.

"They may even if we stay," Alec quipped.

"Are you leaving or not?" Max asked him point blank.

A lot was riding on his answer, she knew. A lot of the transgenics and some of the transhumans looked to Alec and trusted him. They remembered him as a leader from Manticore, but they also knew him now on the outside. He was a finder and broker of hard to get goods and a damn good asset to have covering your back. If he walked, more than a few might choose to do so as well.

"I gotta think," Alec said and pushed himself away from the table. He left the room without a backward glance.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" CeCe asked, half-standing, as she looked to Max with uncertainty.

"No, let me," Max seethed and followed him out of the room. "Everyone, chill for five. I'll be back."

She walked out of the room and scanned the command post for him. He had disappeared. She traversed the room and thought about heading for his room when another possibility occurred to her. She moved across the parking garage and into the tallest building in the complex, Building Six, with its high and now spent exhaust stacks. On the far corner, facing toward the port a few miles away, she found him seated with his back to her approach.

"Hey," she called to him when she was within a few yards. "You know there are snipers trained on this roof some of the time, right?"

"Two o'clock," Alec said pointing in that direction without looking. Max's pupil dilated and she spotted the rifleman in black on a building in the distance some 600 yards to the south. "I waved. He waved back. I'm considering playing charades with him if he pulls a double shift."

"Funny," she said flatly as she stood behind him with her arms folded and her hip cocked to the side. "I have kind of a tight schedule here so do you know how long is your tantrum going to be?"

"Bite me, Max," he said as he turned his face to her briefly, sporting truculent expression.

"Any reason I shouldn't throw you whinny ass off this building?" she asked.

"None unless you don't want to take the plunge with me," he said. "I fly, you fly, Max. I promise you that."

"You wouldn't," she said, unconcerned.

"Neither would you," he responded sourly.

Max approached and sat beside him, her legs drawn up as she wrapped her arms around them. She sighed and looked at him and shook her head. She then turned her eyes to the port in the distance. Rain was coming, leaving the sky a dreary gray.

"We're being used… again," Alec said after several moments of silence.

"Your point?" she asked.

"My point," he grumbled, "is that I don't like it. I never did. I have a choice now—you taught me that, by the way. So I have to ask: Why are you signing us up to be their bitches?"

"It's pronounced bodyguard, and I'm doing it because it's our best option," she answered.

"You mean, it's Logan's best option," he replied coldly. "These BioCorp guys hold the key to your happiness, I get it. Look, if you want the rest of the formula to that friggin' cure so bad, why not just steal it? You steal from bad guys, right? Well, big business, drug company. How is that not a neon sign for bad guys?"

"We can't," she said.

"Yes, we can," he nodded. "We get the plans to their lab and drop in to steal the formula. Sveta can cook up a whole batch of love potion number nine for you and Logan and we can be done with playing guard dogs for folks who think of us as simply body armor."

"There's a bigger picture here, Alec," she argued. "Other people want to get their hands on these scientists. They're coming out into the open to make a statement, to show that they too don't always have to hide in shadows. We're helping them out. Maybe someday, they can help us. I know they can help a lot of other people with what they discover. So, yeah, it's worth it we need to act as guard dogs. I mean, isn't that sort of what we were created to do."

Alec scoffed and shook his head. He didn't know why this made him so angry. He didn't normally care about the big picture; he rarely cared about the small picture. He just wanted to life his life and enjoy what he could for as long as he could. The selfish scavenger in his genes, the sly and opportunistic jackal bits, was bristling at this latest turn in their fate.

"Fine," he said. "We're soldiers. No argument, but whose really calling the shots here. You? Your boyfriend? He wants to right all the wrongs in the world, fine. He's a saint, good for him."

"Since when are you scared to play dress up and kick some ass if needed?" she asked.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Maxie," he said honestly. "Don't ask me why because I don't know. It feels sudden and big, and we're not ready for it."

"Then get ready, soldier," she commanded. "We don't have a lot of great choices. We're doing these guys a favor, and they're gonna repay us."

"You trust too much," he shook his head. "Me, I just want to be left alone, but now you're telling me that in order to do that, I have to promise to stand between a bunch of lab coats, who are probably cooking up our next batch of relatives, and a bunch of breeding freaks whose sole mission is to snap the necks of anyone who shares our cute little birthmark. Fantastic set up, Max. I am inspired to join in this. Where do I sign up?"

"Alec," she said without sympathy. "Don't you know that sometimes, you just gotta be a brave soldier."

"I've done that," he said. "It always sucks. You know, I don't know about you, but this doesn't really feel like that freedom you sold to us in your little 'join me' speech all those months ago."

"You're right," she said unexpectedly.

"I am?" he shook his head flustered.

"Yeah," she repeated. "Like you said, this whole thing sucks out loud, but given the alterative, what else can we do? We can't fight all of them—not White and rogue Manticore creations and not the government and everyone out there who is afraid of us because we're different. Maybe, if we do this and we're successful, it will show a lot of them that we're not a threat, that we're just what you said we are: The ones who have been protecting them all along."

"Some of us were," he said and looked at her coldly. "Some of us took a walk before we were ever ordered to do those oh-so necessary and oh-so distasteful things for a country that can't decide if we should get to live or not."

"You had a rough life?" she mocked. "Oh, poor Alec. I feel for you. Really. Maybe you should see someone about it, go have a good cry on Normal's shoulder for some comfort. Me? I'd rather do something, kick some ass and show them who I am rather than sit in my room, pouting and feeling sorry for myself."

Alec scoffed as he stood and shook his head at her in disgust.

"Screw you, Max," he said as he stalked away from her. "You better get back to the Halls of Justice; you and the Super Friends seem to have this all figured out."

"Where are you going?" she called to him.

Alec did not answer. Instead, he kept walking.

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N: ** Dashed this one off in a hurry. Sorry for the disjointedness of it. Still more to come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 6)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: I've been amazed at the international response to this story. Dudes, you've taken me global! It's awesome. I'd love to see your country posted as the first word in any review you drop on me. It'll also help get my professional publishing people something else to think about rather than harp on the fact I'm now a chapter behind on writing the sequel to my last novel. As always, I love your reviews and the great questions and observations you pose. Thanks so much!

# # # #

Alec shuffled reluctantly toward Max's office. Three days had passed since their discussion on the roof. He left TC not long after it and was only now returning to the sanctuary. He approached the slightly ajar door as saw light creeping under it. Pausing, he heard her speaking to Logan over the satellite feed. He rolled his eyes with resignation, but waited until he heard the cyber call terminate before nudging the door open with his foot. He leaned casually on the door frame as he kept his hands in his pockets.

"For the record, you give the worst pep talks," Alec said, without preamble.

Sidestepping an apology and not asking for forgiveness felt like the most honest approach. He was neither sorry for how he reacted to her plans nor for what he said to her about them. He still believed all of it, but that did not mean he would quit or walk away… yet.

"Well, I'm not used to dealing with whinny assed mercenaries," she answered, folding her arms but keeping her face from scowling.

"You could still use a year or two at charm school," he offered.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Away," he responded evasively. "I told you I needed to think. You crowded me so I had to find… more space."

He looked tired and chilled. His clothing looked slept in but the circles under his eyes told a different story. She doubted he had slept much or at all in the three days since he walked away from her on the roof.

"You going to run away every time you don't get your way?" she asked.

"I needed space," he said again. "You didn't give it to me. When I don't have what I want, I go find it. We've met, right?"

He looked at her boldly. He was not in the mood to be scolded, but he also did not want to fight with her. He didn't know what he wanted precisely, but knowing what he didn't want was at least a start. He walked into the room and casually dropped into chair at the meeting table.

"I miss anything?" he asked.

He could see her hesitation to tell him anything. He had walked out. She had been counting on him, he supposed, for some support with her plan to play Delta Force for BioCorp's geek brigade. Why she expected it he did not know; she had said numerous times to him that she did not trust him.

"No," she said honestly. "I've talked with the vice president of BioCorp. He's an uptight weenie so the meetings were short. He keeps looking at me like I'm going to steal something from his office."

"Anything in it worth stealing?" he asked then held up his hands innocently. "I'm just making conversation not looking for something to do tonight."

"No," she shook her head. "His office is all post-Pulse crap, bad knock offs of 1950s décor. He seems to think it's priceless."

"So, you've been to see him in person," Alec asked. "You there on business or… medical?"

"Both," she said awkwardly. "I wanted to be there when Logan got his first vaccine."

"Not dead?" Alec asked.

"Not dead," she replied. "Early tests show it is working. Dr. Brezhenski is encouraged by the tests. He's not cured yet, but a few more rounds of the vaccine and he will be."

"Tests?" Alec asked.

"Yeah, my saliva on some of his cells under a microscope," she said. She looked at him rising irritation. "I didn't tongue him in the lab."

"Why not?" he asked. "You're all pent up and raging with your hormone deal, right? Do the rest of us a favor and throw the guy down and have your way with him. You'll finally be happy, which will let the rest of us… be happy."

Alec smirked at her, but it was not his typical sly grin. Sure, his lips curled in the same fashion, but there was something different in his eyes. Something more detached and cold. This was a practiced expression meant to hide something and Max felt hurt by it for some reason. She did not usually like the taunting she received from Alec about her and Logan, but there was a purposeful disinterest in him this day that seemed to create a new distance between them.

"You're getting a little personal," she said dryly.

"Hey, I didn't ask if you know yet if Logan's parts are working for you, assuming they are working at all," Alec said trying to keep his tone sarcastic rather than reflect the corrosive resentment he felt in his gut. "I mean, if he's been faithful all this time, they might be a little rusty. Plus, he's older than you and completely human so there may be some performance issues."

Max glared at him angrily but took a steadying breath and exhaled slowly, intent on not fighting with him. Again, his words were typical jabs from Alec, but they felt like less play and more punch somehow. She chalked it up to her tiredness that was making her extra edgy.

"So since you're back, do I take that as a vote of confidence in my leadership?" she asked. "Or are you just here to grab your stuff and go?"

"Again, the team building vibe you've got going is just intoxicating, Maxie," Alec shook his head.

"I'm not going to beg you to stay or coddle you just because you don't get your way," she began.

"You need to listen to the people you trust," he said then added quickly, "and me, too."

Max scoffed, but offered him a hint of a smile. She had not slept in the days since the team met. Not that this was unusual for her. She didn't sleep often, but since taking the meds from Brezhenski, fatigue had grown stronger in her. The urge to sleep was powerful, but between her worry about when (or if) Alec might return along with her worries about the potion Brezhenski was brewing, sleep was being held off by concern and anxiety. Oddly, the part about the cure that agitated her most was what would happen if it worked. She had spent so much time and effort convincing herself that she and Logan could never be that the thought of all that suddenly changing was jarring. She found it odd that this did not bring her a sense of relief and joy; she wondered if that was just due to some subconscious, lingering doubt that the next round of tests would show that the virus was penetrating the protective protein coating Brezhenski created, or something else entirely.

She was afraid to admit that she worried that because she previously could not be with Logan it had somehow made her long for him more, that it was the fact he was unattainable and forbidden made her desire him so. Sure, she was attracted to him; she had been since they met practically. There was definite sparkage all the time they spent together, but she wasn't the same person any more. Max worried that she might finally be free to do with him what she wanted to do all along (and she had a list of things) that she might not feel the same. What if he didn't either? They had pined for each other, being so close but never being able to be together, that he too realized their moment was lost due to circumstance?

"Hey," Alec said, snapping his fingers in her direction as he watched her zone out. "Max? I'm talking to you. Am I boring you already?"

"What?" she shook her head. "No. Sorry. Just…"

"You need to multitask better, Max," he said. "Learn to have your fantasies about… Logan," he cringed as he said it, "and listen to your advisors at the same time. That's fundamental, by the way: Listen to your advisors. If you only want people who agree with you, just talk to the X-7's. If you want honest opinions, then you have to let us have ones that differ from yours sometimes. It's called leadership, which is different from dictatorship."

Max sighed and half-shrugged. She agreed with him, but she didn't want to say so. Agreeing with Alec was not something she liked to do; she hated doing it particularly when he already knew he was right. Rather than give him a chance to crow, she countered with her own observation.

"Cut me some slack," she said. "You zone out all the time watching TV shows with people who have been dead since before the Pulse."

He cut his eyes at her, offering her the briefest flash from his soft green irises and long lashes. For an instant, she felt the cold distance between them thaw as the disconcerting but exhilarating charge she expected from him returned. But then it vanished with a blink. It was there and gone so fast she wasn't sure if she imagined it for he looked away just as quickly. The wink and the grin she expected to appear did not.

"No, I only seem zoned out," he argued. "I'm listening to both things: bad ideas and bad TV. It's like I was created to be smarter than the average…"

"BioCorp," she interrupted, cutting off the diatribe.

"Uh, no," he shook his head lost with her comment. "I was going to say bear, but yeah, yours works too, I guess."

He shrugged and nodded as he considered her words. He did not have to do so long as she explained.

"No, BioCorp, Alec," she said. "As in the job."

"Right, BioCorp," he nodded. "Yes, the angels of mercy who are making it possible for you to…."

"Yes, them," she said quickly.

"So, are they just giving you and Logan all this lab work out of the kindness of their test tubes or does your sex life come with a price?" Alec asked.

He heard the words come out of his mouth. Sex life. He clenched his fists for a second and scolded himself. Love life, he told himself, he should have said love life. He was certain Max would sic her sharp tongue on him and the cordial conversation they were holding would end swiftly all because he was too tired to police his mouth.

But he was wrong. Whether it was because she wasn't listening, didn't want to argue or was too tired herself to care, she let the remark slide, he assumed as she did not blink at his comment.

"Not exactly," she admitted. "There is this job on the table."

"So, in order to get Logan to the finish line, they need you to play bodyguard over their geek toga party?" Alec nodded. "Interesting. There's a word for that. It rhythms with extortion… No wait, it is extortion."

"It's really not," Max disagreed. "One technically has nothing to do with the other. They've started treatment, and we haven't done anything for them yet. The treatment may be finished by the time we do this job for them. It all depends on how Logan responds. The next vaccination could be all he needs."

"You really believe that?" Alec asked. "I'm not trying to fight with you, Max. I'm just curious how gullible and desperate you are."

She looked back at him and bit the inside of her mouth for a moment. Only Alec would say something so insulting on purpose while simultaneously claiming he was not trying to start a fight. He looked back at her with a curious and innocent expression. She responded with the same level of honesty.

"They have a legitimate need, and they are not linking it to Logan's shots," she said. "They did say that they need help and as we are currently involved with them, they asked if we could step in and assist. I agreed so we have a job to do."

Alec nodded slowly. He considered offering her a slow clap but figured he had pushed the bounds of her patience on this subject with him so he refrained. He was, in truth, trying very hard to be honest with her without letting his jealousy and anger spill over into being argumentative. It was hard. He was tired. He was cold after spending several days doing nothing other than sitting atop the Space Needle watching the world slide by and considering his options for the future. He stood by his resistance to working as security for the pharmaceutical company's egg heads. Something felt wrong about it. Whether it was simply the menial aspect of the job, he didn't know. He, and many of his fellow Manticore alums, was a friggin' one man assassination team. Standing around to be bullet catchers was the job of men and women more suited to the role of chum. Still, if it all went badly, part of him wanted, or perhaps needed, to be there for her afterward—even if it was just to remind her in the future to listen when others disagreed with her (which in Alec's mind was totally different than saying 'I told you so').

"So, you said we have a job," he continued. "That's 'we' as in you and your loads of volunteers?"

Max nodded.

"And you," she added.

"Me?" he looked at her in amazement as he scoffed. "No. You said this was volunteer. I am sitting this one out."

"I need you," she said quickly.

Alec looked at his hands and swallowed hard. The urge to make a salacious comment about her need was strong, but his time getting soaked and shivering on the Space Needle was a time of reflection and contemplation (and gratitude that it took a lot to give an X-5 hypothermia). There would be no more flirting with Max. No more double entendre. No more open-ended comments and explicit offers because, he knew, each one was spoken with a sliver of hope from him. Each would always go unfulfilled. He had done what he could with his time in solitude to purge those last dregs of hope from himself. It was like Original Cindy told him. Max chose Logan. For her, it would always be Logan. Alec now knew he needed to start acting like he truly understood and believed what he told OC: Max wasn't his. She never would be.

"There's a larger issue here," Max continued. "These people are important and they can help a lot of…"

"Here we go," he sighed with frustration. "Translation: Your boyfriend wants us to protect these people so they can develop something great, like fast-growing rutabagas, that can feed a third world country like Portland."

Max heard his ire, but chuckled at his words. She cocked her head to the side as she corrected him.

"Portland is a city not a country, and it's in this country," she said.

"Looked outside much?" Alec said pointing vaguely toward the windows. "I think it's pretty much at Third World levels economically out there, Max. Besides, I watch the market report."

"Their top scientists are presenting findings on some viral research at a symposium," she explained. "Their private security firm is covering it, but…"

"But loverboy has a lead," Alec grinned knowingly then buried his face in his hands. "So, if he wants our bad asses covering this thing the threat isn't small. What is it? Rogue homies from the nursery in Wyoming? Or are we talking White and his ugly back up dancers?"

Max cocked her head to the side at his words. She wondered if she was simply missing her former life working at Jam Pony as she had the sensation that Alec was sounding a bit like Original Cindy with his odd descriptions and sub-references. She shook her head an focused on the conversation again.

"Possibly some freelance Manticore graduates," Max replied. "Right now, his intel is sketchy."

"He's using Sketchy for intel?" Alec looked at her with wide eyes. "The guy wrote a report the other day on killer, mutant turtles who do karate. I think Logan's standards are falling."

"I mean," she said, fighting a grin, "that he doesn't have much information yet. It's all pretty gray, but maybe you were right. Something is off with this job, but if it's going to be off, who better to have on hand than people who can handle it, like us?"

"How about people who can handle it who aren't us?" he asked.

She looked at Alec with renewed concern. Sure, the desire to slough off an undesirable duty to someone else was completely in character for him. He was the type who was uninterested in doing anything that did not benefit him personally, in her experience. But she never questioned his bravery. Alec didn't hide from a fight out of fear. He would do so out of a chance to exploit the situation, sure, but not because he was afraid he would get hurt or couldn't win. This reluctance coupled with the oddly distance vibe she was getting from him worried her.

"Well," she said looking at him closely for signs of what might be causing this new mood in him, "it wouldn't help our cause to have an assault team sporting barcodes making the evening news kidnapping and massacring some of the country's top geneticists."

"Could be a little awkward," he agreed with a half-hearted shrug. "Logan have any idea what might be coming to the nerd party? X-6's? X-5's? If it's any of the 700's those guys are just savages or douche bags. My tactical suggestion is to put them down fast and wet without asking any questions."

"We're not killing unless we have to, Alec," she said firmly. "We're not killers or savages—."

"Speak for yourself," Alec mumbled.

"—despite what the news says or what might be in our personal histories," she continued, speaking loudly over his comment. "Besides, we don't think they are looking to kill; Logan thinks it's more about financial gain."

"Snatch and ransom or hostage forced to create a bioweapon?" he wondered.

Max shrugged, glad he was following the possibilities without needing much information. Alec was, she knew, wise tactically. His decision making in other areas of his life were not as well-honed, but when it came to possible firefights or strategic assaults, he had a definite edge. A lifetime learning from the specialists at Manticore served him well in that aspect.

"Either, both," she responded.

"Fun," he grimaced. "Why aren't we killing them on sight again?" Max glared at him. "Public image? Right. Now, just so I am clear on the party line, what they want to do is bad?"

Max scoffed her exasperation. This was what she had been expecting. Alec's warped logic and amoral opinions were joining the discussion.

"Yeah, Alec," she said with irony dripping from her words. "Kidnapping scientists for money or manipulation is considered bad."

He held up his hands quickly in surrender.

"Just checking," he replied. "I mean, maybe you can understand my confusion. I was sent to a foreign country to kidnap a…"

"That was different," Max argued. "Dr. Brezhenski came with you of her own accord to disarm a bio weapon."

"Po-TAY-to, po-TAH-to," Alec shook his head. "Fine, well, you have a good time. I'll watch the fort while you and the knights of round table have fun storming the castle."

"I'm guessing half of that was a TV or movie reference," she shook her head. "I don't have time to play 20 questions to get you to explain them. Alec, you're on the team going undercover as investors attending the presentation."

"Solo?" he asked hopefully.

"I said team, Alec," she repeated herself slowly. "That means more than one."

"Fine," he replied. "I'm leading, yeah?"

"No, second seat," she informed him.

"Max, I don't take orders from…," he began.

"Me," she said. "I'm leading this and you will take your orders from me."

"You get that the General doesn't take the field, right?" he remarked. "That never happens. Ever."

"What about in football?" she countered. "The quarterback is called the field general."

Alec opened his mouth to disagree but found he couldn't. He pondered counter arguments for several moments but could find none. Instead, he looked back at her speechless.

"Good, then we agree that I'm going," she said with finality. "Look, this is a big deal for us and I don't want any screw ups."

"Translation: You don't trust us and think we need you to babysit," he said. "Max, if you're that worried…"

"I'm not worried," she said. "I want this to go smooth so I am sending those I trust the most. That's me and… you."

"And?" he asked.

"That's all," she said. Alec looked at her in surprise. "For the undercover aspect, at least. Taylor, Catus, Dylan and Zero will be there as well, but they'll be mixed in with the actual BioCorp security at the various security posts. You and I are the only ones in the room with the presenters. And they won't know we're… us. Look, I know I said this would be volunteers, but I need you in there because you have the most field and covert training and experience of all of them."

She grabbed a stack of papers from her desk and dropped them in front of him.

"Get familiar with those in case anyone wants to talk to shop with you about this stuff," she said. "That's financial records. We're not scientists. We're money people. We need to blend in so make it believeable."

"And in this blending we're doing," he said, "I'm a financial guy and you're what? My assistant? You should wear a really short skirt; helps keep the questions non professional or anyone from caring what your answers are."

Again, Alec caught himself too late. Max looked at him with a narrow mouth, but there was a slight flicker in her dark eyes that some might interpret as mirth. Alec turned his gaze away and looked at the papers. He needed to focus on them rather than her.

"No offense," he said mildly. "You said my experience counts here. Trust me. Playing the assistant is perfect. It makes for a better cover. There's two things no one ever expects: A strike team leader posing as an underling…"

"I'm not going to strut around in a miniskirt carrying your briefcase and fetching you coffee," she said and while the words sounded aggressive, her tone was playful. She was disappointed when he did not pursue the discussion.

"I'm just saying it is also the perfect way to hide in plain sight and still have full access to everything," Alec explained in a bored tone.

"Try this," she challenged. "I own the company. You're my assistant. You'll step and fetch for me. How about that? You'll be like my beck and call girl."

She smirked at her comment and waited to hear how he replied. She expected to see the sly grin with the naughty twinkle in his eyes. Unfortunately, she was denied.

"Fine," Alec agreed quickly to Max's dismay. "Whatever you say, boss."

He gathered up the papers and tucked them under his arm as he got up from the table and walked toward the door. She looked at him, a touch hurt and disappointed that he didn't as for what she wanted him to do specifically as her "call girl. " She was just as dismayed that he didn't attempt to verbally joust with her or give her any counter suggestion to being her lowly assistant.

"Hey," she called after him before he could leave. "What was the second?"

"The second what?" he asked, turning a blank gaze to her.

"You said there are two things no one ever expects," she reminded him. "You said the first was me being a secretary but being in charge. What's the second thing no one ever expects?"

"Oh," he shrugged in a bored fashion. "The Spanish Inquisition. You gotta watch more TV, Max. Honestly."

**# # # #**

Alec spent the next day and a half memorizing the reports Max gave him. To call it dead boring was an understatement, but at least it wasn't hard. He went beyond the financial reports she provided and did some of his own research into the other companies who would be attending the conference and vying for deals to get in on the patents for the new medications the scientists would be discussing and the research they were looking to have funded. BioCorp was not the largest of the companies there, but they would be the most represented as they were hosting the gathering. Max's plan had her going in as a small firm with its eye on expansion. Their phony company's dossier was rather embarrassing, in Alec's opinion, particularly after he looked up the ones they would be allegedly competing with. He told as much to Max when they had a meeting about the next phase of the project.

"We are who we are," she said. "Logan has these documents, and we need to stick to them. They stand up to scrutiny so as long as we're believable…"

"You're believable as the CEO of a company looking to get into the medical patent world?" Alec asked. "Tell me you're going to do more than show up in a suit. I mean, I can spot you on a lot of things to help you out, but I'm guessing the reason you are taking me is so we can be free roaming vapors." He paused as he realized she did not understand the reference. "Work the room as our own separate entities?"

"I can handle it," she said. "You just need to understand your role. You don't act without checking in with me unless…"

"Unless it is an emergency," he sighed. "Yeah, Max, you've said it like 20 times. I got it. I'm on a leash."

She smirked at the statement, expecting a follow up comment about love slaves or safety words, but none came. She looked at him with renewed concern. She was glad he was taking this seriously. She was actually impressed with how much he had committed to memory—not that she thought him incapable. As an X-5, he was endowed with near flawless recall and a seemingly infinite capacity to learn information quickly. Still, she had half expected him to leave this studying until the night before. She was a bi ashamed of herself for that now.

"Just for this mission," she said, hoping her words sounded kind and encouraging rather than patronizing. From the look on his face, she missed the mark. "In other circumstances, you would have the lead. I've named you a squadron leader."

"Squadron?" Alec said, wrinkling his nose and looked up at Max from the pages in front of him. "Squardon?"

"Yes, Alec," she said. "Your own team."

The private briefing was not going as badly as she feared. He arrived on time, had read all of the reports she handed to him and was not questioning anything until that moment. His motivation for the stellar behavior was not clear but her worry over this model soldier act was growing.

For his part, Alec was already bored with the assignment. He also felt punchy about it. He wouldn't say so to Max, but it felt like something Manticore would send him to do (minus the not killing people directive). The homework, the tight control, the required precision, it all reminded him of the missions he did for them. It placed a knot in his stomach, which worried him. He wasn't shy about possible violence. He enjoyed field work. He just didn't want to be X5-494 again and this assignment felt a lot like stepping back into those shoes.

"Right, I'm charge, but of a 'squadron'?" he asked, his agitation getting the better of him and boiling over into a need for an absurd discussion. "Isn't that an Air Force thing? Hey, does this mean we have planes? I'd like to fly plane."

"You know how to fly a plane?" Max asked doubtfully.

"No," he shook his head. "But I'm a quick learner. If you make me a pilot, I'll be part of one of your squadrons, no problem."

"No, we don't have a plane, Alec," Max said keeping her voice even. "Before you ask, we also don't have a boat. We barely have a car."

"Hovercraft?" he asked quickly and flashed an amused grin to her.

"You mention an eel, and I will make sushi out of yours," she warned.

"Flirt," he winked at her, then silently cursed himself for doing so as she looked away to cover up a smile. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and returned to his initial objection. "Why squadron? We're more commandos. We work in units or platoons or…"

His abrupt change from playful Alec to serious and mildly testy Alec bothered her. It also bothered her that she had, again, spent night punctuated by restless sleep and the only things she could recall after waking were flashes of Alec's face or the sense that she may have been speaking his name just prior to waking.

"We liked squadron," she cut him off. "Do you understand your brief?"

"You mean my MOS, that's military occupation specialty," he said. She glared at him assuring him she knew the acronym. "So, Squadron. Our specialty is infiltration and retrieval? Basically, you've made me a thief. Sorry, leader of a squadron of thieves, a prince of thieves?"

"To me, you've always been a royal pain in the ass," Max scowled then pointed at the pages in front of him again. "You're the leader of the squad designated Alpha. Your specialty is the infiltration, through whatever means is most efficient, of whatever needs infiltrating, and retrieving whatever needs retrieval."

"Yeah, I'm a thief," he repeated with a simple shrug. Max glared back at him. "Okay, you prefer cat burglar? It's a little on the nose, don't you think?"

"It's our top covert operations team," she said exasperatedly, certain he knew precisely what the job was but was being difficult out of his own juvenile reasons. "If we need to get inside with eyes on something, you go. If we need to retrieve something or someone, you go."

"And I'm the leader?" he asked and shook his head valiantly. "I don't know. Not sure it's my thing."

"Damn it, Alec," she growled and looked at him sternly.

"If nominated I will not run; if elected I will not serve… unless it pays well," he offered. "Does it pay well?"

He looked away from her, she felt it was strategic but could not figure why. She caught the look in his eyes, a sparkling flash of mischief, that he quickly turned away from her as he also hid his perfect, white teeth, which shone brightly in his wide, playful smile. Max's composure broke. She laughed, in spite of her anger and frustration, or perhaps because of it. She folded her arms on her desk and buried her face in them. Her body shook with each chuckle as she felt a stitch form in her side.

"I'm just not sure you can afford me," Alec said, keeping his eyes on the window.

He wanted to look at her, to drink in the rare sight of her laughing, relaxing, and enjoying a moment, but would not let himself. This was business. She was business. To let his thoughts roam into ideas of pleasure was just going to make him ache later when she ended the meeting to talk to Logan or head off to the mad scientist's lab to let more of herself get siphoned off to cure him. Alec didn't need to cause himself any avoidable pain.

"I'm not sure we can afford to have you on the team either, but I don't have any other good options," she said, looking up as she caught her breath.

"If I wanted to be treated like dirt, I'd go back to my last job," Alec said.

"Well, this pays less than your last job and the boss doesn't worship you like your last one did," Max replied.

She swatted him casually on the arm, prompting him to turn and look at her for a moment. His gaze was muddled and perplexing. There was a mild smile on his face, but she got the feeling he was hiding something.

"My loss," Alec remarked and looked into her eyes for a long, intense moment.

She looked back, unsure how to react. The pregnant pause grew into a silence that was neither uncomfortable nor cold. She could not read his thoughts from his expression. It was a bold look, but not challenging.

"Well, with an offer of no pay, the chance to be killed or capture at any moment and a boss who usually can't stand the sight of me, how can I guy say no?" Alec said suddenly. His tone was cold and did not match the smoldering look she just received. "Where do I sign up?"

"Alec?" she asked, reaching to touch his arm out of concern, but he pulled away quickly.

"Kidding,," he said standing abruptly and nodding to her. "Alpha burglar, hostage rescue team or whatever the hell we are, I'll do it. Let me know if one of us gets lost and needs a superhero—I know a bunch of them, just don't ask them to wear letters or capes. Yesh, there's a visual for you: Mole in spandex. Ugh."

He shuddered visible and shook his head then wandered out of the room whistling.

Max sat at her desk and folded her arms tightly. Something was off, wrong. Alec wasn't being Alec. With a surge of worry, she got up and quickly followed him, catching up with him as he stopped to speak to Joshua who was seated in the man control room.

"Alec," Max called as she hurried to his side. "I need you to go to sick bay."

"Why?" he asked.

"Just do what I say," she commanded.

"No," he shook his head. "Not until you tell me why. What's going on?"

"Joshua," she said. "Take Alec to the medical building."

Joshua stood on command and placed a comforting arm around Alec, who recoiled quickly. He looked from the transhuman to Max with wide eyes as he felt his pulse increase.

"What the hell's going on, Max?" he asked.

"That's what I need to know," she said. "Alec, just do this, okay? It's for your own good."

"My own good?" he repeated, keeping his eyes shifting quickly between the confused face of Joshua and the stern gaze of Max. "I don't feel like any good will come of this for me. I'm not sick, Max."

"Alec no feel good?" Joshua said sympathetically and tried to pet him soothingly on the head.

Alec batted his hand away as he took a further step back. His gaze and expression hardened as he focused on Max.

"Tell me what's going on," he demanded.

"I'm not sure," she replied, blurring quickly behind him and grabbing his wrist in an unbreakable hold.

They struggled, changing positions as Alec attempted to break her vice-like grip and gain the advantage. He assured himself he could do it. She was still suffering the ill-effects of her dates with the Russian doctor, but that was also the reason he did not want to thrash her. He wasn't sure what procedures exactly the doctor was performing, although he was suddenly suspecting it involved some sort of mental manipulation. Also, the thought of striking her bothered him now in ways he never had when they sparred in the past.

"Max, I'm not going to fight you," he said. "Let me go."

"Not until I know what's wrong with you," she commanded.

"Wrong with me?" he gaped. "Nothing. You, however, are little nuts right now. We were just talking in your office. Nothing happened."

"Exactly," she said, nodding to Joshua to put a tight hold around Alec. "You're not being yourself."

"No, I'm being what you ordered me to be," he said. "You said get with the program or get the hell out. I decided to listen to you. See, acting like this, this is why I don't follow orders. No good comes of it. Ever."

She looked at him again fully. He glared back at her angrily, but not psychotically, not murderously or traitorously. He was just pissed, and a bit uncomfortable if the throbbing vein in his neck was any indication of how tightly Joshua was holding him. He looked more like the Alec, the angry Alec anyway, that she knew. Still, she could not shake those worried feelings in her stomach that something had changed, something drastic.

"You've been MIA for three days," she said. "No one knew where you were. I asked and you wouldn't tell me."

"Because it was none of your…," he began then craned his neck around to his captor. "Seriously, let go or I'm gonna pass out."

The urgency and anger in Alec's tone startled Joshua. He looked to Max who half-nodded. Joshua retained control of him, but loosened his grip a bit.

"It's for you own good, Alec," Max explained. "If someone got a hold of you, you might not know it. They could have…"

"Oh please," he scoffed. "I didn't get jumped and reprogrammed in three days. I lasted six months in Psy-Ops at Manticore without cracking. You think someone's gonna wipe my slate clean and rewrite the program in 72 hours? Give me a little credit."

Max considered this statement. It seemed logical, factual even. However, Alec did look worse for the wear when he returned. Where he was and what he had been doing seemed to be the cause of this subtle but disconcerting shift in his personality.

"Then there's no harm in getting checked out in medical, is there?" she said, then signaled to Joshua to escort Alec there.

Alec relented to the exam, but not without offering her a cold and nasty glare that was full of meaning she could not decipher. Concerned what it might mean, Max followed them to sick bay.

**# # # #**

Pride peered into Alec's eye with a long, lighted scope. He had resisted the exam but failed as Joshua pinned him, apologetically, to the bed. Alec grit his teeth and took the scrutiny with ill grace. He scowled and glared angrily at the medic and refused to make eye contact with Max at all.

At the end of her inspection, Pride turned to Max with a shrug. She didn't see any inflammation or scaring indicative of Manticore style manipulation. She doubted Alec could have healed in such a short period of time from that type of procedure. She felt confident in reporting he had not been placed in restraints and given mental manipulation at the end of a laser during his missing hours. However, as she could not be 100 percent certain, she did recommend he be placed under observation for a few hours. Max nodded then left with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Something was wrong with Alec, she was certain.

Out of sympathy and worry, Joshua remained at Alec's side. He was also the only one strong enough in the medical unit that day to place him in restraints as Pride ordered—as a precautionary measure. Alec did not fight the prisoner treatment once he realized it was the only way to convince them he wasn't going to flip out on them and go on a psycho killing spree. Still, he did not like being held down. It reminded him of his time in Psy-Ops. The memories subdued him considerably.

"Over soon, Middle Fellah," Joshua said with a small smile.

"I'm not going to do anything," Alec assured him, laying his head back on the pillow to alleviate the pressure of the tight collar pulling on his neck.

"Strapped down," Joshua nodded.

"No, I mean, even if I wasn't," he sighed. "I wasn't someone's lab rat while I was gone. I was just… thinking. And I wasn't entirely alone."

He hadn't been. He was joined for part of his lonely vigil by the wanted leader of a S1W strike team, Asha Barlow. She, too, it seemed would climb to the top of the Needle sometimes for search for solace or inspiration. She was surprised to find Alec there. While they did not commiserate on their problems, they at least did keep an eye on each other for several hours each day. Unlike Alec, she required food and sleep, but each time she returned, she found him seated in the same spot wrestling with his internal demons.

"Alec get busy?" Joshua asked.

"No," he shook his head. "It's been a while… too long, actually. Look, I was with… a friend. Tell Max that, would ya?"

"Joshua tell Max Alec said he was with friend," he nodded.

"No," Alec shook his head. "Talk to… Logan. Tell him to talk to Asha, okay? Asha can tell Max where I was. That should prove my innocence."

Joshua turned his head to the side and regarded Alec with soft and worried eyes.

"Alec feels guilty, sad," he offered.

"No, I don't," Alec sighed. "I feel like a prisoner—for something I didn't do. Max isn't going to believe me so you need to get her to…"

"Alec sad about Max," Joshua cut in softly. "Max and Logan."

Alec looked back at the transhuman with a questioning gaze. He and the dog man had an obtuse relationship. He considered the transhuman a little slow and naive. Alec also suspected Joshua felt the same way about him.

"No," Alec lied smoothly. "I'm happy for them. They'll be able to dirty dance in no time."

Joshua uttered a soft and mournful whine as he shook his head at Alec. He pet the restrained man's head tenderly as he did so. Alec looked at him miserably. The experience was degrading and humiliating. What made it worse was the look on Joshua's face: pitying.

"Joshua knows," the transhuman said with a slow nod.

"Knows what?" Alec asked cautiously, looking around the room to make sure there was no one else listening.

"Alec love Max," he said quietly. "Make Alec sad."

Alec shook his head. That was…. Okay, he wanted her. He was attracted to her. That was no secret. He didn't like that Logan could have her (or could soon enough). Again, it was a physical thing. Jealousy was not hard to cop to for that reason. Sexual attraction was primal, even in humans. Add to that some actual animal DNA and the reason Alec felt so miserable about the situation with Max wasn't hard to understand. But love? No, Joshua's simplistic view had misunderstood… something.

"You got that wrong," he assured Joshua. "Max and me… No. Not… No."

"Joshua knows love," Joshua said again then sighed heavily. "Love sucks."

**# # # #**

Alec lay awake in the uncomfortable restrains. The medical unit was dark. Zero, a zealous X-6 who Max helped rescue the day after she burned Manticore, sat outside Alec's door. He was there to watch the patient—or so Pride said. Alec heard "guard the prisoner" in her tone. He just hoped Joshua had stopped his pouting over an imaginary broken heart long enough to get word to Logan so he could straighten this mess out with a call to Asha.

_Love_, Alec scoffed softly and twisted in his restrains. _I do not love Max. I lust after Max. I want her. That's all. Not love. No. Not me. Not ever. Love is for fools, chums, and people who… have someone who loves them back. _

He stared at the ceiling and listened to the hum of the computer in the next room. He tried clearing his mind of all thoughts, the way he did when in isolation at Manticore. It was easier when they used physical restraints and punishment; the hard part was the time in Psy-Ops when they carved into his mind, doing things he wasn't precisely sure he remembered or understood. But, being restrained, he found it difficult to relax. He wasn't worried he would be tortured or kept in sick bay long. Whatever prompted Max to take the unnecessary action would be cleared up soon enough. In the mean time, he had to find some way to get through the hours.

"All tied up and no one to play any games with you," came a voice from the door.

Alec tipped his head forward as much as possible to see a petit curly redhead with wide blue eyes loitering in the door. She offered him a smug and pleased look.

"Living out part one of a fantasy, huh, Taylor?" he remarked as she entered the room. "Zero, take a walk. We need some privacy for an hour or so."

"You wish," Taylor scoffed as she approached his bedside then called over her shoulder. "Zero, you can leave if you want to hit your rack. If you want to spend the night sitting in a chair listening to Alec not sleep, feel free to do that as well."

"Got me right where you want me," Alec smirked as she sat beside him. "Be gentle. Apparently, I'm not myself."

"I heard," Taylor nodded. "What are you doing, Alec?"

"Time in the brig for being… professional, near as I can figure," he said. "See, this is what good behavior gets you."

She looked down at him with a mixture of devious pleasure and sympathetic concern. She had served with Alec at Manticore, when she was simply X5-489. She and then-494 had competed for top slots in their unit. Sometimes she won, sometimes he did. Both were groomed for solo missions to take the lives of others. Both had proven successful at it, although she knew she never failed in a mission; what Alec had done to end up in the ward that was for those needing reindoctrination was unknown to her. Asking wasn't in her character and telling wasn't in his. She was not one to feel bad for anyone, but seeing him on lockdown like this was not easy. Still, he had apparently earned it.

"Taking off for three days with no word," she said. "AWOL is serious."

"AWOL is for the military," he replied.

"You left without any word," she accused.

"I told Max I needed time to think," he replied. "She watched me go."

"You can't just disappear, Alec," she said. "You're someone we depend upon. Do you understand that?"

"Max barely trusts me," he scoffed.

"Screw Max," Taylor said. "I'm talking about the rest of us. The X6's we have here, they weren't made to be all that independent. They need us to show them what to do, to be mentors. They look up to you. They remember you from…"

Alec rolled his eyes and scowled at her.

Manticore. It always came back to that place. Yes, they had ruled his life for the super majority of it. But those days were done. He was no longer a senior officer in a brigade of super soldiers. He came and went as he pleased. He didn't take orders. He didn't give orders. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. Whatever he wanted, whatever made him happy, that was his mission on any given day. He was no longer X5-494. He was Alec. Max gave him that name and she set him free. He sighed inwardly at the memory. Anytime he heard his name he actually thought fleetingly about it, about her. _Maybe I should change it_, he thought.

"We need you, Alec," Taylor continued. "Maybe Max doesn't always trust you, but some of us do. Well, maybe not always, but we've served with you, Alec. We know you."

"You knew a number," he said. "Taylor, I'm not that guy. You don't know me anymore than I know you now."

"I love oatmeal," she said.

"I recall," he said. "You eat it cold when it's the consistency of cement. That's not what I'm talking about."

"What then?" she asked. "I lived in the same barracks as you for 18 years before they let us out on assignments. I know that you're arrogant and you like people to think you're cold and selfish."

"I am cold and selfish," he said. "And it's not arrogance. It's accuracy."

"You, me, Biggs and Cactus, we spent a lot of time together," she recalled. "You were my competition, Alec. I studied you. All those days on assignments, all those days in the field, the times they brought you back from the fifth floor because you mouthed of. I watched you. I helped you. You remember that?"

Alec looked at her and felt odd. Taylor was never one to be warm or supportive. She argued, a lot; that red hair was no lie. She was what Manticore made her, made him. They were alphas. They were driven, expected, to work alone, form no ties and remove any obstacle in their way.

"What do you want?" Alec asked.

"Some of us aren't sure Max is the right person to be in charge," she said. "I'm, personally, on the fence. Oh, don't give me that look. I don't want you in charge. I know you, remember? I'm just asking, a lot of us are, if you disappeared because you're getting ready to jump ship. If so, you gonna let us in on it or you gonna leave us all to… go it alone? You're a bastard in a lot of ways, Alec, but you never left any of us behind when we really needed help. This is one of those times."

Alec looked at her with a hard gaze. He was often called opportunistic, but he was an innocent child compared to Taylor. She wasn't the only one, either. That was one thing Max didn't understand. She had a dewy-eyed vision of the Manticore brethren. She spent the previous decade of her life yearning to see her so-called siblings, the ones from her unit who bolted with her in '09. They became some perfect family unit in her mind; probably not unlike her unyielding affection for Logan: something she wanted badly because it represented some perfect past and hopeful future that really never existed. Now, she leading an army of super soldiers, but she was unable to see them for who they were: killing machines that weren't fully human. She needed to understand they all did not share her views; some were only biding their time, looking for sanctuary until something better came along. The truth was, for all Max's crowing about the transgenics being harmless, it wasn't true. Alec knew it. He wasn't sure if Max truly did.

And there it was. The reason he knew he couldn't leave. He felt like he needed to protect her. She was as strong as he was, maybe even stronger because she had that bitch factor that could kick in and find a few extra ounces of force when she needed it most. She was fast and she was smart. Unfortunately, she believed too much in the goodness of her fellow freaks. He didn't know that she needed him to watch her back where he fellow Manticore grads were concerned. He knew she certainly wouldn't want it, but he felt an obligation. He tried telling himself it was just due to his physical attraction to her, but somehow it felt stronger and deeper than that.

Taylor, sensing that Alec had tuned her out, left the room. She figured, considering the sparks that few between Alec an Max, that if the time came when he was going to walk out, he would make a loud scene of it.

Alec never heard he leave, forgot she was even there in the first place. He was too twisted in his thoughts to even still notice the restraints around his neck, wrists and ankles. His thoughts were on Max and the strange spell she had over him.

She was important to him. She had saved his ass more than a few times. She was attractive and she did have a pretty good head when it came to fighting. She was not a bad break in artist, but it was more than that. He'd felt it, something, from the moment they met. Manticore sent him to her as a breeding partner, figuring (he supposed) that either he'd fail because she was to hung up on her boyfriend or she'd try to escape and he'd rat her out (because those were his orders). He did fail. She wouldn't let him within a foot of her. He also failed in that he did rat her out. He was told she was a threat to them so he did what

he was ordered to do. He still felt rotten about that. That was one of the reasons he helped rescue her from White when he was rounding up all the Manticore runners in the woods.

He hadn't killed her when he needed her barcode to save his own life. He'd even gone to give Logan a transfusion, well, he was trying to go, when she called him for help nearly a year earlier. He didn't resent the guy so much then. He hated it when Max used him, told Logan that he was her new interest because she figured he was the type who would steal someone else's girl.

_Well, aren't you_, he wondered. _Only if she wants to be stolen_, he reasoned. Would he steal her from Logan if she was willing? _Sure_, he thought. _Of course, if she was willing, it wouldn't be stealing_, he grinned at the thought then caught himself doing it.

In that instant, his answer to his issues with Max became clear. As he realized it, he pounded his head back further into his pillow as he swore viciously in the darkness. _Joshua_, he thought, _was right_.

**# # # #**

By mid morning, Pride returned and released Alec from his confinement. Apparently, Asha had been reached and corroborated Alec's alibi of being alone. What she told Logan and Max was a mystery to Alec as he did not get a chance to speak to either of them. He went first to their mess hall area to grab something to eat then returned to his room to study his assignment for their upcoming job for BioCorp. He had a strong urge to leave and wander the streets, but considering his recent incarceration for doing just that, he decided to stay at TC instead.

Meanwhile, Max was gathering more information on the location of the BioCorp sponsored gathering and the participants. It was to occur some 50 miles south of Seattle in the mountains at a resort near Crystal Mountain that somehow managed to keep its standard and accommodations high. The setting was pristine and picturesque, but it concerned Max. They were out in the wilderness. That left a lot of forest for unfriendlies to stage operations. She expressed her concern to Logan who promised he would see about getting topographical maps and satellite imagery for her. He understood her worries, but he sensed there was more than just logistics on her mind.

"Is this about Tuesday?" he asked.

They were scheduled to get the final results of the vaccines effectiveness in two days. All lab tests were proving successful. Brezhenski said many doctors would consider him cured, but she was playing it cautious. She wanted one more round of harvesting from Max and one last protein serum booster for Logan. However, she was willing to chance a live test. They were to attempt it—a platonic brush of skin on skin—at the lab that week.

"I've had Sam look at the test results and check my blood work," Logan said encouragingly. "He thinks the doctor has done it. He said in his opinion that there's no need for another booster, but he understands why she's being cautious. But it all comes down to the same thing: I'm immune."

"We hope," she said. "If she's wrong…"

"She's not, Max," Logan smiled over the satellite feed. "I can feel it. This is a win, for us. I know we've gotten close before only to have it fall apart, but this is different. It's already done, Max. Everything from here forward is just… extra precaution."

Max looked back at him with an expression that was filled with fear and longing. In her heart, she wanted to have this time bomb diffused. But there was also some part of her that worried what it meant. Logan was looking at her like everything would suddenly be fine. Maybe that was the case the first day he was infected, but things were different now. She was different.

"So is Alec planning retaliation for locking him up over night?" Logan asked, seeing her hesitation to discuss Brezhenski's progress more.

"I don't know," Max shrugged. "He's been avoiding me."

"You should give him a break and cut him some slack," Logan said. "He's not exactly wrong with his hesitation about this BioCorp job. He's played along like a good soldier fairly well, for Alec at least, recently."

Max nodded and sighed.

"So Tuesday?" she asked.

"Yep," he nodded. "Tuesday. It's gonna be fine, Max. You'll see."

She nodded half-heartedly as they disconnected. She didn't feel even a fraction as confident as Logan did. The floor always fell out from under them at the last minute. It was as if the universe had decreed that they would never be together; it had Max wondering if they even should be.

She felt guilty about that thought. Logan was what she wanted, had wanted for so long. There was no logical reason why she should suddenly feel different. Feelings didn't just disappear. She cared about Logan. That she formerly worried about saying the word 'love' in that sentence didn't mean anything. She was tired and this was stressful, that's what she told herself. She also was not looking forward to another round of procedures on Brezhenski's table, but if that was what it took for her to not accidentally poison Logan, then she would deal with it.

She shuddered at the thought, but shook herself back into focus. As she did, she looked up to see Alec in the main command center. He was sporting a serious expression and conversing with several X6's. They were nodding vigorously, hanging on his every word. That could mean two things: He was telling them salacious tales of his life or they were seeking advice on some part of their jobs.

She admired the way he commanded their attention. He was comfortable with the mantle of leadership, despite his assertions to the contrary. He was charismatic and clever. He was experienced and courageous as well as brave. He had changed, grown up and matured a lot, since they first met. The cockiness was still there, but he was a part of the team now. He had his reservations, but he was honest about them. That he had been acting oddly, sufficiently so that she feared he had been turned by one of their enemies, was something she noticed right off. Now, learning he had not been in a captor's hands, she wondered why he had changed. Except, she was learning, she was the only one who thougth so. That left one answer: He had changed toward her.

Original Cindy had theories about Alec where Max was concerned. She had similar theories about Max where Alec was involved. Both amounted to the same thing and both scared Max. Those theories scared her. She wasn't sure which one was more disconcerting: How OC felt Alec felt about Max or about Max felt about Alec.

As if knowing he was the focus of her thoughts, Alec suddenly looked up and caught her watching him. He left this admirers and walked into her office.

"Word is loverboy is cured," Alec said. "You were just taking an obscene computer call from him?"

"Not exactly," she said. "About sick bay…"

"Leader's gotta protect the troops," Alec said, waving off the discussion. "Is Logan cured?"

She noted his interest in the answer. It wasn't just that he had asked twice. It was the curiosity in his tone. He was also looking her directly in the eye again. There was no more evasive looking away at the windows, no avoiding eye contact at all. He was also standing beside her desk. No more distances of at least a table width to separate them.

"Dr. Brezhenski thinks so," Max replied and thought she saw the minutest contraction of the muscles around his mouth. His expression did not change, but she had the feeling his mood had. "We find out on Tuesday."

"So you're going to thank me, right?" he asked as he sat on the desk and looked squarely at her. He was so close that his knee brushed against her. "After all, I'm the one who brought your mad genius here to make this happen."

"I already thanked you," Max said awkwardly. She kept her seat in place rather than push back from his invasion of her personal space.

"You didn't," he said. "I got back and you yelled at me and hugged me, but you didn't say thank you. Maybe that's because you were crying."

"I was not crying," she argued. "I was… surprised you were back. I told you. I thought you were dead."

"You mourned me," he offered. "You, uh, you didn't want to lose me."

"I thought you were looking for gratitude not a eulogy," she said.

"Nah," he shook his head. "No need to thank me. Logan did… several times."

He next pulled a wad of cash from his pocket.

"He even paid me," Alec explained. "I will say this for your crusader boyfriend, he does understand how to compensate for a job well done. I have always cherished his style of… appreciation."

"He paid you?" she asked. "How much?"

"Enough to get me something I want and need very much," he replied.

"I can only imagine," she rolled her eyes.

"You'll have to," Alec nodded. "See, while you're slumming it in a crappy economy room at the resort during our little bodyguard act, I'll be staying in an executive suite. This cash will pay for the upgrade. I figure, if I have to play bodyguard to a bunch of lab coats, I'm at least going to sleep on satin sheets and have the best meals their five star kitchen can provide me. It makes me think of this week I spent in Dubai back in 2018. Now that was luxury."

He grinned and sighed with a wistful expression at the memory. He hadn't even had to kill anyone during that excursion. He just needed to steal some plans for a factory in the middle east that was not producing power for residents.

"We have a cover to maintain, Alec," Max said sternly.

He looked back at her, grinning widely as he leaned in and spoke in a quiet and husky voice.

"Don't worry, Maxie," he said in a sultry fashion. "Just relax. I'm gonna surprise you. I promise I'll prove it to you. After this is done, you will never look at me the same way again."

**# # # #**

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A/N: Again, sorry for the disjointed rush job, and for how short the chapter is. I just wanted to publish one mroe before I take a week off to work on my novel. Hope this was enough to tide you over. More to come!


	7. Chapter 7

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 7)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Thanks for the country check-ins (both from home and abroad)! I appreciate the reviews and your suggestions so much I couldn't leave you hanging for a whole weekend without a chapter (plus I'm dying with writer's block on page 320 of my book). Anyway, I saw this chapter was half done so I worked on it today. I really will be off for about two weeks now, but chapter 8 will be worth the wait (I hope). Enjoy this one!

* * *

**# # # #**

Joshua watched Max pace in the alley between the armory and the command center. With so precious little to do in the way of security or diplomacy, she was losing her mind. Leaving Terminal City was not forbidden or guaranteed to be deadly (at the moment), but doing so was not advisable. The cooling tensions between the Manticore refugees and people and officials of Seattle (all usually armed) and the Federal Troops (who were only slightly better armed) made for a more relaxed atmosphere, but that didn't mean they were rolling out the welcome mat or buying the first round at Crash.

What it did mean was that Max had very little to do. She spoke twice daily to her preferred liaison with Seattle's officials (Detective Clemente) to give an update on the plans for the two factions. Both discussions basically offered vague statements about neither side not actually planning anything but keeping open their options to move and take action if it was warranted. It gave both sufficient deniability should the détente fail. As she was not a part of the day-to-day functions of TC, she had nothing to do until a crisis arose. Everyone else dealt with keeping TC functioning, stocked and ready to react if needed. That seemed to keep everyone busy. Except Max.

Her lack of tasks was maddening to her. It left her with nothing to do but wait and think. At that moment, her thinking had her pacing. The pacing made Joshua nervous. He sat on a crate in the alley, watching her, as he pulled a raw and slightly lint covered hotdog out of the pocket of his army coat.

"Like hotdogs," he said for lack of another topic and in an effort to get his friend to do something other than pace.

"Hotdog?" Max asked, looking at him bewildered. "How can you think of hotdogs right now?"

Joshua recoiled at her hot tone and shrugged as he replied.

"Hungry?" he offered and nibbled on the end of it. "Share?"

"No," she sighed then approached him with a sorrowful look. She patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Joshua know," he replied forgivingly. "Little fellah worried."

"That obvious?" she asked.

Joshua nodded. She looked tired and anxious. She had been pacing nonstop in the alley for an hour without speaking. The sun had long ago set and a steady, chilly sleet was falling as the early winter temperatures dropped into the freezing range.

"Worry never fixes things," Joshua offered sagely. "Only makes worse."

"I don't know how it could get worse," Max said then paused. "Actually, I do. What if Dr. Brezhenski's cure works at first and then stops working but we don't know it until it's too late."

"Logan gets sick after you get busy," Joshua replied. "Not a good plan."

"Very bad plan," Max agreed. "I'm not being a pessimist. I'm being a realist. Something always happens whenever I think Logan and I are finally going to get our time. It's as if…"

"It's not meant to be," Joshua said.

Max looked at him startled. The definite nod of his head under the sleet-soaked mane of hair was unexpected. The frankness of his tone was disheartening.

"You don't think Logan and I are meant to be?" she asked.

"Max thinks," Joshua shook his head and pointed back at her. "Said: Every time something goes bad."

Max sighed. She was considering the possibility. Had more than once in the previous year. She wasn't a big believer in fate, but there were times when life simply lined up all the resistance it could muster and the answer did seem obvious. It's not that she was one for rolling over and giving up when things got hard, but after a while, failure after failure did seem like a sign of sorts.

"Max love Logan?" Joshua asked.

"I guess," she sighed dejectedly.

"No guess," he shook his head. "Know or…. no."

She thought about it. That worried her. She never really needed to think about it before; she had feelings for Logan. She was certain at one point it was love. It started as just a tickle of interest, a crush, and then it became something more. She had spent her whole life running and keeping her distance from others, but with Logan there was some safety and that was fertile ground for something more to grow, and Max had grown.

Logan was kind and sweet and handsome and smart. He was good for her. If it wasn't for the virus… They had wasted an entire year dancing around each other when there was no biological assassin coursing through her veins. For some reason, they never found the right moment. Then, once they had, she was dragged back to Manticore and held captive. She thought hated everything about Manticore until that moment; then she met Joshua.

She looked up at her transhuman friend and saw the compassion in his eyes. He had saved her and in the process helped her free all the others captive in that prison, like she had been. She still hated all that Manticore stood for, but there was no longer a reviling of all things associated with it. There were other transgenics out in the world now, and she saw them for who and what they were: magnificent creations with much to offer, more than the world even knew. That realization made her consider herself in a different light. She was no longer just an individual. She was part of something larger. That made everything seem different, especially herself.

That knowledge was what prompted Max to take the reins when White manipulated the media and police into revealing the existence of the genetically enhanced to the world. Her people needed a leader, someone who understood them but also understood the world of ordinary humans. She had lived among them for more than a decade, posed as one of them, and learned much of what it might to be one of them. What she was learning now was changing everything about her yet again: How to be a transgenic in a world who knew her secret.

Logan was there for her. He was supportive, but she wasn't sure he fully understood. He grasped the concept of their fragile peace with authority. He understood the idea that they were considered different and feared by many. He just didn't know how that felt. Only someone who had lived as she did, who knew people because of living among them while keeping that secret, could know. Not all those at TC even had that knowledge; many had spent their first year away from Manticore in hiding. She knew of only one X5 who had come into the light and walked among them, following (most) of their rules and putting on the mask of someone who was just like them successfully. Alec understood; she knew that. She could see it on his face, the frustration, the envy, the weariness of playing both roles. Alec knew what it was like to hide who and what he was for safety, sanity and survival; he also knew there were precious few on the planet who could relate to what it was like to be him.

Like her, Alec kept most of that bottled up. He put on the face of Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky to mask the pain and the bad memories. He made crass and cold remarks about the futility of their lives, the pointlessness of trying to blend into a world that never wanted them, the likelihood of imminent failure in caring about anything. No one else seemed bothered by his negativity and this surprised Max until she realized they did not know what she was talking about; Alec, she realize, only told her those things.

Where Logan kept up a brave face and shared with Max details about many of the Eyes Only projects, he did not lay bare his feelings to her. He held in anger and disappointment. He was in his constant "fix this thing" mode. Damage control and playing the savior to right a wrong were his passions. They were great and inspiring, but other than proving he was someone with a good heart, they did not reveal to her his feelings or his trust in the intimate connection she thought they were forging. She, too, hesitated in laying bare her soul to him. They had build an invisible wall between them long before the virus entered the picture. In reflecting on this, Max wasn't sure if they were more interested in protecting the other or themselves. It made their allegedly star-crossed love affair seem stale and shallow.

"I do… love him," she said shaking her head. "The feelings are just… complicated. I can't explain it. It has to do with…"

"Alec," Joshua offered.

"What?" Max asked startled. She shook her head vigorously. "No."

"Yes," Joshua insisted. "Alec needs you."

"He does?" Max looked at him with wide eyes as her chin dropped and her mouth hung open for a moment.

Alec and Joshua had an odd friendship. Alec had twice attacked Joshua—once with the intention of killing him to save his own life; once simply after being startled as he dealt with the re-emergence of painful memories of heartbreak and punishment from his past. Joshua never held it against him. He liked Alec and found him an entertaining companion. Together they could find more trouble than Max cared to put right on any day (most of it at Alec's instigation), but there was a bond there she could not deny. They trusted each other and while Alec often acted like Joshua was subservient to him, she knew Alec cared for the transhumant and would never do anything to hurt him. Joshua cared similarly for Alec and had fallen into a terrible state of sadness in the fall when they thought he drown on his way to Russia. She did not know how much time the two were spending together since Alec's return, but she now wondered if Alec had confided something to the transhumant, or if Joshua's keen perception about people simply saw something no one else had yet noticed.

"Why do you say that?" Max asked. "What did Alec tell you?"

Joshua stood up from his seat, shaking his head. He spun her around to face the command post door some 50 yards down the alley. Alec stood there waving his hand calling them inside.

"Alec needs Max—now," he said pointing to the transgenic standing in the door way signaling to them.

**# # # #**

Max arrived in her office to find a delivery in the shape of a tube. Alec sat on her desk watching Mole stare at the package with a hungry interest. The lizard man was angry but accepting of the reason he was not allowed to participate in-person at the BioCorp conference. To cool his temper, Max agreed he should be part of the planning for their security duties there.

"I'd hurry up, Maxie," Alec said as she entered the room. "Those blueprints of the hotel whispering sweet nothings to Mole. He's going to jump that package and…"

"How has no one ever shot and killed you?" Mole growled.

"Probably has something to do with me being fast and adorable," Alec nodded with confidence.

"Ordinaries are bad all around," Mole sneered. "Bad shots, bad judges of character…."

"Not bad cooks," Alec shrugged. "I was watching this show earlier, the guy was roasting an Iguana and…"

Mole raised the pistol he always carried and leveled it at Alec while clamping down hard on his cigar. He glared at the transgenic for a long moment then stuffed the gun into the shoulder holster he was now sporting. Alec had begun joking he would get Mole a duster so he could parade around the compound like an old west marshal from 200 years earlier. Mole scoffed but more than a few swore they saw him smile at the suggestion.

"Do you two need a room or to take this into the alley to settle it?" Max asked, watching the two stare them at each other. Mole was glaring with pent up anger; Alec was grinning mildly and tauntingly.

"He's not my type, and I'd hate to hurt one of my elders," Alec said.

Mole snorted derisively and grumbled what might have been the word "pussy." Max sighed explosively and tore open the shipping tube. She stripped out blueprints, topography maps and satellite photos of the Crystal Mountain Resort: the location of the conference.

"Mole, take the topo maps," Max said handing him the documents. "Take the satellite shots, too. Give me your break down. I'll start on the hotel itself. Then we'll switch and compare."

"You got it," he said, snatching up the pages and leaving the room.

Max rolled the plans out onto the table and began studying them. Alec joined her after a moment, standing very close to her side. She did not notice it at first, but as their session continued, she was unable to move without brushing her arm against his. She looked across at him a few times, expecting to see some salacious leer on his face. Instead, she found he was not paying any attention to her at all. His eyes were focused on the schematics as he committed them to memory and made notes about possible entry and exit points, areas of vulnerability and questions they needed answers as they formulated their strategy.

Max moved to the other side of the table, to look at the drawings from a different angle. It was cooler over there without the added body heat of her companion, yet the room still felt confined with the two of them working intensely. Alec could only keep his eyes and brain working so long before his mouth felt neglected. Max was able to do her own study despite his running commentary, but there was something about all of her senses being accosted by Alec (the warmth of his body, the occasional brushing of his hand against hers, the scent of him and the sound of his voice) that made it hard to concentrate.

She was glad when, after Mole returned with his notes and a gruff promise to look at the other half of the documents the next morning after he'd had some sleep, Alec decided to take a break as well. He left her alone in the room. His departure changed the atmosphere measurable. It was quieter, cooler and… lonely.

An hour later, Max's eyes burned in the sparse light of the office. The exact dimensions, angles and all other details from the maps, blueprints and photos were imprinted on her memory, but there was still much more to do. Her lids felt heavy and her stomach was complaining through a low but persistent growl. She scoffed. When Alec departed, he claimed he was getting coffee. Max shook her head and decided he had problem simply gone to bed. She was reluctant to admit it even to herself, but she had appreciated his assistance and was missing his company. The constant chatter did get a bit taxing on her nerves at times, but it did beat the monotonous silence caused by his absence. She also found his stories entertaining and enlightening.

Since beginning their plans for the conference, she had learned a great deal about Alec. His life seemed to begin at 16 when Manticore first sent him into the field—as an observer only and with a full complement of handlers. His recitations of those days and what it was like to see the outside world for the first time were fascinating. Learning that people wore all manner of clothing in every array of the rainbow nearly sent him into ischemic shock. She knew the feeling. She had the same thing happen to her when she first ran away from Manticore. However, unlike her own fear-filled memories, hearing Alec tell the story was entertaining, like watching a parody skit. And, for as humorous as the story was, it wasn't nearly as entertaining as watching him tell it. Max decided, despite his well-polished loner persona, Alec was truly an extrovert. When his guard was down, he was unable to simply tell a story. He had to physically depict it—as if walking through it again in his memory and acting it out.

Max, while concentrating on possible weaknesses in the security perimeter at the hotel, found herself straying from the maps to watch him. This was a different Alec than she usually dealt with in this office. He was relaxed and open. There was no scheme afoot (at least that she could sense, and after all this time, her 'Alec is plotting' radar was finely tuned); there was no overt play for attention. Although he was keeping a running dialogue of his history, it was not one laid out to impress her. He was self-deprecating in certain moments—as if somehow his days as X5-494 were not truly a part of his history, and he was telling her about the foibles of another. He had also ceased his typical barely veiled sexual innuendos. She was taken aback by that when she noticed it, but what startled her more was how this other side of Alec, this side that was not hormonally focused, was even more attractive.

He was handsome. There was no denying that. For the most part, Manticore did not make X-5 field operatives (those to be used covertly as assassins in particular) ugly. But there was more to him than good cheekbones, a straight nose and jewel-toned eyes. As he spoke and became animated with his stories, there was a boyish charm she found appealing that compounded the impact of his good looks and wonderfully toned body.

Max caught herself sighing as she stared into space in the silent room as she recalled the last of his stories before he departed. She shook her head and reminded herself there was work to be done. Having Alec appear in her sleeping dreams was one thing; allowing him to take over daydreams was going too far. She scolded herself and turned her attention back to the blueprints when the door swung up and the aroma of fried rice and egg rolls filled the air.

"Do you know what I love most about Australia?" Alec said without preamble as he entered carrying a bag from a Chinese takeout place Max recognized from her days as a Jam Pony messenger.

"What? " Max asked. "You've been to Australia?"

"Yeah," he nodded then looked at the doubt in her eyes. "Not just now. I mean, I'm fast, but not that fast."

"Where were you?" she asked.

"Oh, I ran out to Section 8 to get this," he answered and placed the bag on the table. "See, as I was saying, I was in Australia once heading to… Well, that's not important. I got like 24 hours there and…"

"In Australia?" she repeated.

"Yes," he continued. "Actually, now that I think about it, Germany and Sweden have the same thing going for them. See, the women there are…"

"Enough," Max cut him off.

Alec looked back at her in surprise and nodded.

"That's exactly what I was going to say," he snapped his fingers in agreement as he pointed at her. "They are absolutely enough. They're enough fun, with enough flexibility in their…"

"Stop!" she cut him off.

"Schedules," he finished his sentence and looked back at her with accusing eyes. "I worked with a few of them—that's all. I was going to say, you could learn from their examples. Dedicated, but not obsessed. The right balance of professional and fun."

"Oh," Max replied and shook her head. "Well, that's not important right now. We're working on this."

"Actually, we're eating," Alec said, drawing out chopsticks and a carton from the bag. "Or I am. Have some if you like, but I don't do strategy well on an empty stomach unless I'm living in a cave and my life depends on it. Ooo, extra duck sauce."

Max watched him tear into the food with elated abandon. He murmured his approval of the feast as he kicked his feet onto the table in a relaxed pose. She was torn. They needed to work, but the food smelled intoxicating. They did not have everything figured out yet, but she wasn't getting anything productive done. As if sensing her crumbling resolve, Alec stood and put down his food. He walked behind her chair and dragged it, with her in it, across to the table where he sat. He crammed a carton and chopsticks in her hand.

"Don't make me spoon feed you," he said as he took his seat and began eating again. "Which wouldn't be possible because they didn't give us spoons."

"Alec," she sighed.

"Eat, Max," he encouraged. "Your stomach growls so loud, it makes me think Mole is in the room bitching."

She relented and opened her carton and became aware of how ravenous she was. The food was still warm—something that she didn't get much as her trips to the mess hall were usually at odd hours. Not that there was a lot of warm or well cooked food there. They lived off canned food and their meals were more like military rations. Takeout was not unheard of in TC. The seedier parts of Seattle didn't snub their noses as much at strangers so transgenics outside the wire could occasionally grab something and would bring it back to the envy of those who did not get to leave the perimeter that day. Alec was one of those who was known to have his own stash of food from the outside. Pizza boxes were seen in the trash (and later fed to Bullet's goats) after some of his wanderings away from their toxic, gated community. Sharing was not something he did often or openly as far as Max knew.

"Thanks," she said through a mouth full of rice. "You didn't need to do this."

"Eat?" he scoffed. "Yeah, I did. I was starving."

"No, I mean, for me," she replied.

"I'm not quite the selfish bastard you think I am, Max," he said easily.

He looked at her with a lingering gaze. She had seen that look from him often in the last few days. She had expected cold and scornful glances after making him spend the night in restraints. She was satisfied that his previously odd behavior was just an attitude adjustment he was making as he came to terms with their second class status and return to the role of tools and protectors. Max reminded herself that she had spent more years away from Manticore and knew sometimes you needed to play the game to get what you wanted on the outside. Alec was very good at the hustle, but his freedom was zealously protected by him as it was still new; anything infringing on it was offensive to him.

"I know you're not completely selfish," she said. "You're just not a saint."

"You mean, I'm not Logan?" he asked. His tone was casual and light, but there was an inflection on the name that she did not miss.

"Logan's not a saint either," Max said with complete honestly.

"What do you see in him?" Alec asked boldly.

His eyes trained on her in a calculating and probing way. She stared back, unsure how or whether to answer. She also wasn't sure she could answer. She knew what she saw in him in the beginning. He hadn't really changed since then, but she had. She just wasn't sure any longer how much of what attracted her then still intrigued her to the same level.

"He's… smart," she said.

"Genuis IQ?" Alec asked. "Knows multiple languages, can learn any skill or process in a matter of days?"

"No," she said. "He's not…"

"Me," Alec offered quietly as he chewed his rice slowly.

"I don't know what his IQ is," Max continued. "He's just… smart. He's got a good heart; he cares about people and causes. He's loyal to his friends, and he cares about… the things he cares about."

"Really?" Alec questioned. "You do realized that you've just described a pet dog?"

"What?" she guffawed. "No."

"Sure," he nodded. "Kind and clever, loyal and faithful—you didn't say faithful by the way, I'm just guessing he doesn't hump the neighbor's leg. I'll be he can follow commands and likes to share his toys."

Max scoffed and chuckled, spitting some of her fried rice back into the carton in the process. Alec leaned over and patted her on the back. His hand lingered there for a moment. Even through her shirt, she felt a charge from his touch. She inhaled deeply but in a controlled fashion. She caught his eye and nodded off the concern she saw. He shrugged and removed his hand, taking his seat again. She felt a pang of regret as he did so and that confused her. She knew she was tired and weary from hours of looking over the same documents countless times. She wasn't sure how to take his actions or his comments. Despite her fatigue and worry, she wasn't punchy enough to take offense to Alec's dog analogy or his invasion of her personal space. She looked back at his challenging gaze and smiled.

"You're just jealous," she replied.

"Yes," Alec admitted, reaching into her carton with his chopsticks and grabbing some for himself. "I am."

Max's expression went blank. She stared back at him, chewing slowly, watching her carefully. She blinked several times and waited for his words to make sense. They didn't. Alec admitting jealousy? That was like admitting inferiority or failure. It just didn't happen. Not from Alec.

He watched her struggle with her thoughts, but made no move to intercede. He stared at her for several long minutes, the kind of blazing stare that raised the temperature of the room several degrees. Max stared back, unable to speak. She was shocked and pleased, excited and terrified, all at the same time.

"I'm tired," she said suddenly, standing up. "I'm…. I'm going to bed."

She turned swiftly and left him alone in the room.

# # # #

Cactus leaned on a desk in the main command center. She looked at her watch for the fifth time in 10 minutes. Max was in her office, reportedly taking one of her regular calls with the Seattle Police Department's liaison between the TC population and the outside world. Catcus had a message for her. She wanted to deliver it quickly in case Alec arrived.

Logan was coming to TC.

He had arrived to escort Max to their last appointment with Dr. Brezhenski. What happened this afternoon was either going to kill him or proved he was cured. Joshua, eager for a happy ending, was guiding Logan through one of the abandoned subway tunnels. Cactus had run ahead to help speed this along. She was happy for Max and Logan, though she did not know him much. It seemed good and proper that they would finally have an answer to a lingering and heartbreaking question. Cactus also felt sorry for Alec. In the most basic way, the success or failure of Brezhenski's research project had nothing to do with him, but she knew the results were going to impact him all the same.

Inside the office, Max was no longer speaking to Detective Clemente. Clemente's call had been like it always was, brief and uninformative. She was used to that. No news was good news.

Instead, she was on the phone to deal with possible bad personal news.

"This is it," Max said, her voice heavy with worry. "One touch and it could be over."

"Exactly," Original Cindy said. "This virus bitch gonna be takin' a dirt nap, and you and Logan can be getting' all down and dirty by sunset."

"Or, if Brezhenski is wrong, Logan's the one who will be taking a nap, forever," Max worried. "There's no antidote. This is all or nothing. I'm not sure it's worth the risk."

"Not your call," OC replied. "Now, you knew it could come to this. What's the real hitch in your giddy-up? You not want it to work? I'm getting a vibe here like you is just as afraid it might work."

Max sighed and ran her hands through her hair. She was weary from all of Brezhenski's treatments, her nearly around the clock work on the plans for security at the conference and her worry about this day. When she did try to sleep, her mind would race preventing sleep. In those rare moments when sleep did come, her dreams were vexing. Either they were frantic and tragic with Logan dying after a simple touch from her hand, or they were equally frenzied with Alec appearing in them with all thoughts of Logan disappearing.

"I don't know what I think anymore," Max confessed. "Remember when life used to be simple with me just being repressed and running from one secret government agency?"

"Glory days done passed you by," OC laughed. "You okay? I mean it. You all sixes and sevens about Logan getting better?"

"I don't know," Max said. "I really don't know what to think about… about a lot of things."

"That's because you thinkin' too much, Boo," OC said. "I know what you need: a night out. You is going with me to a Warp."

"A what?" Max asked.

"Warp," OC said. "It's a time warp night. There's this traveling club, like an old time rave, and they call it Warp. They play like that retro music, kickin' it with the stuff that was hip back the decade before the Pulse in '09—that and ancient stuff like 1990s tunes. It is a cloud burst, sugar. That's your cure. You and me, like old times. We gotta go and dance between the rain drops, you know what I'm sayin'? Sister, you gotta let yo hair down or it gonna fall out. You comin' with and that is that."

"A club?" Max said and nodded. "It's not on the radar? I don't exactly have free roam on the city any time of the day."

"No, it's cool," OC said. "No one knows where the party is gonna be until that night—and I hear the dealio is the cops get a cut of the cover to look the other way; place never gets a call from the po-po. Boo, I got someone who can hook me up with a locale. You in? Next Thursday good?"

"Okay," Max nodded. "A girl's night? I could do that. Especially after this… project thing I'm working on right now. Once it's done, I'll need to decompress."

"Then I will escort you to the decompression chamber," OC proclaimed.

"Oh, wait," Max sighed. "Next Thursday? Can't. Logan's leaving on Friday. We have plans… sort of."

"Sort of?" OC asked. "As in, if he ain't dead you're doing something, like each other?"

"Something like that," Max said with a sigh. "Maybe another time."

"No, no, no," OC said. "Logan is gonna be fine. You just wait and see. He's leaving next Friday for some secret little journey, fine. That's Friday. Different day from Thursday. Look, bring yo man along. This is a fun night. You and he can get your groove on before you go to his place to... get yo other groove on."

"We'll see," Max nodded. "I got something I have to do early in the week. If that goes well, I'll be up for a night out."

Outside the office, Cactus looked up to see Joshua pointing toward the office, directly Logan where he should wait. Both were smiling, one more deliriously than the other. Logan's stress was obvious and expected. What Cactus did not expect was to see Alec entering the command center with a bored expression and on a course for Max's office. Cactus looked at both men as they spied each other. Shaking her head and deciding there was no point in remaining, she ducked her head and abandoned her place, leaving Logan and Alec alone to wait for Max.

They both approached the area outside her door and nodded to each other. Alec knew why Logan was there—the same reason he himself was there: to see Max. There was nothing Alec needed in the control room. He wasn't on any duty. No one had called him. During his free time lately, he just wandered to the office to see what she was doing. Seeing Logan there waiting, he felt a cold knot in his stomach and a fire spark there as well.

Logan nodded in a greeting to him. The minutes ticked by in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Logan could stand it no longer.

"So, uh, I know I said thank you previously, but I feel like I should say it again," Logan began. "You know, today is the day that…"

"Yeah," Alec nodded. "I know."

"Alec, if you hadn't agreed to go to find Brezhenski and then actually found her and brought her back…," Logan continued.

Alec held up his hands to stop the discussion.

"I hate socially awkward moments," Alec said. "You needed a dirty deed in order to… do one, I guess, so I took care of things. End of story."

"Come on, I'm trying to make some amends here," Logan continued. "I don't always give you enough, or I guess any, credit when you do the right thing. You've helped out on occasion and that's…"

"Look, you paid me," Alec said tersely. "It's fine."

"I know, but you didn't have to do this," Logan replied. "I know that you and I don't really… We didn't get off to the best start, and I know we don't exactly see the world the same way."

"No, I have much better eyesight," Alec replied as he nodded at Logan's glasses.

"You know what I mean," Logan continued. "Look, man, I'm trying to say that, despite taking the money I gave you, I know this was a selfless thing you did. I appreciate it."

"I'm sure you do," Alec smirked while trying to keep the sour tone out of his voice.

He looked at Logan and felt sorry for him, but only to a certain point. Logan wasn't a bad guy; he was an occasionally sanctimonious , mildly pompous, closet know-it-all… sometimes. Given different circumstances, Alec still doubted if they could be considered friends. They were situational colleagues. Yes, Alec could admit (at least to himself… and now Max) that he did harbor some jealousy toward Logan. Logan could hide his secret identity of Eyes Only, and if it was suddenly revealed, he would surely have enemies gunning for him. However, he would have a lot more people willing to shield him.

Alec didn't have that luxury. Once someone learned he sported a barcode, it was open season with little hope of cooler heads prevailing or anyone coming to the rescue. Logan was feared by the crooks of the world; Alec was even more feared and reviled by them plus everyone else. Logan got to play the crusader for justice and could take some pride in the fact that what he did and (if his other identity was revealed) could take a bow; someone would name a day in his honor or erect a statue or name street after him.

Alec had to remain a secret, and if his secret was revealed, he suspect the majority of the population would rather erect a gallows than a statue. The only thing they were likely to name after him was a disease, as his "species" was the only moniker the public understood for him.

Not that he was looking for public exposure or that a lot of what he had done in the past would receive rave reviews. Still, at his core, Alec did not think of himself the way so many others did. He was not actually amoral. He was not a sociopath. He was a being created for a specific purpose: to remove threats (through whatever means necessary) using stealth and force.

The most valuable thing he was given, in his mind, was something not from Manticore. For all the genetic gifts he was given by his creators, he was not granted the gift of a name. He was not permitted to be an individual, a man with thoughts of his own or any emotion. He was to be a cold and obedient tool. The problem was, they messed up his cocktail (as they did with most X5's). His specific code contained rebellious base pairs; he could disobey; he could think for himself; he had his own personal desires. He also had the skill and the drive to get those things, if he chose to do so.

_Choice_, Alec thought as he looked at Logan keeping his face impassive as his thoughts raced. _It all comes down to the question of free will_.

He was a slave to certain aspects of his genes. There was something a little wild, a little untamable in him. He knew that. He could feel it. Animals did not get personal or randomly angry. They did not lash out due to a bad mood. They reacted on feelings, physical sensations. If they were tired or hungry or physically hurt, they went into protection mode. If they were scared (and only the estimation that their life was on the line could make that happen), they would lash out with a fury so extreme only nature could create it. Those were aspects of him that he could not conquer completely. He had learned to gain a great deal of control over them. He could maintain and even reduce his heart rate when needed. He could hold his breath underwater for a full five minutes. He could withstand temperatures that would put an ordinary human in hypothermic shock or die of dehydration. These were a product of his Manticore training.

But there was more to him than his animal bits. He was granted the gift of higher reasoning. His creators allowed him a mind and helped develop it—more than they knew—with all they taught him.

They taught him strategy, how to be calculating and how to get and press his advantage. They taught him to fight and to win, at all costs. That was not all they taught him. What they accidentally taught him was desire and how to satiate it. He never truly wanted to please his creators; he wanted to be the best because whoever was the best got the top assignments and the most freedom. From there, he found there was an entire world that Manticore never addressed. People and pastimes and pleasures they never mentioned in any training or briefing. Alec learned, all on his own, that his skills could be put to successful use at getting those things.

There were things he would choose to have, things he desired. He understood that just because he wanted something did not make it his, but he believed there was no object that existed which he could not, with sufficient time and planning, steal or win for himself. People, however, were another matter. Alec knew he possessed the power to kill any living thing; death was easy in this world. It was all the other stuff that was hard because people had exactly what he had: free will; the ability to choose.

Alec had made his choice; now, his desire depended on the choice of someone else. He knew he was playing catch up and was seriously disadvantaged in this quest. He broke it down in mission and target terms the way Manticore taught him. His choice: Max. His opponent: Logan.

Logan had all the advantages with Max. He was already her star-crossed lover. He was the forbidden fruit, which made him all the more desirable to her. He also had her sympathy. Her touch was poison. She nearly killed him twice and the guilt drew her closer to him emotionally. He was the white knight. Eyes Only fought for justice and was always on the side of the righteous. He stood against everything that Manticore stood for, and for someone who had serious unresolved mommy/daddy issues with the freak factory like Max did, that was addictive. Alec had none of those on his side.

In Max's eyes, he was a product of Manticore. His motives were always suspect, and he was, personally, a screw up who needed her to get him out of trouble more often than not. He was a ruthless killer and barely one step ahead of those that trained them at Manticore. Plus, he was one of the reasons why she was separated from Logan. Alec didn't participate in giving her the virus; that was all on Director Elizabeth Renfro. However, Alec was part of the plot to give it to Logan in the first place. Not that it would earn him any affection from her, but what Max didn't understand was that he never had to tell her about the virus at all.

His original orders were to track her to Logan's apartment and take custody of her after he died from the exposure. Alec screwed up that day and the burning of Manticore was all that saved him from a painful stint on the loathed fifth floor of the place. Alec was tired of his assignment, bored with watching and attempting to mingle with the uptight '09 escapee. He had wanted it over so cutting corners was fine in his book. Besides, he didn't think much Renfro; that bitch had him locked up in Psy-Ops twice and put him through re-indoctrination training once. He didn't see any harm in letting Max know what Manticore had done and that there was a cure. All he needed was to bring her back so he could be given a new assignment. If she raced there on her own, he planned to simply signal security and his work would be done without having to throw down with the feisty female and risk getting his ass kicked. In the end, he didn't turn her in; didn't even try to warn Manticore she was coming.

None of that would matter to Max. Those details wouldn't put Alec in a more positive light for her, and he knew he needed more than a list of excuses for why he wasn't as horrible as his history made him seem. For, despite all that, he suspected the one thing that counted against him most was having the ill fortune of being these second of his kind. Alec had the misfortune of looking exactly like his nut job serial killer twin, Ben. It only made matters worse that Max thought of Ben as a brother and that she was forced to kill him. Looking at Alec was a reminder of one of the darkest memories she had, taking the life of someone special to her. That made Alec, in Max's eyes, always the bad guy.

Or so it was until the following spring when she told Alec about Ben. Something changed that night. For the first time, she was willing to acknowledge that Alec was not Ben and never even knew the guy. In realizing that, she finally pardoned him for something that was never his fault. He realized a lot that evening as well.

Max mattered to him; her happiness was something that he did care about. She had needed his help that night following Logan's exposure to the virus. Alec was even concerned about Logan's welfare. He had felt actual relief that the cyber journalist would survive because Joshua was able to give him the transfusion.

Things changed for Alec that evening. He felt a connection to Max, something real. He was a soldier and he had fought alongside her previously, but that was the turning point. After that, he stood with her when others ran. Even before that, he felt a certain esprit de corps toward Max; he came back to help after the Manticore fire even though he had every reason to flee. Springing her from White's cage could have gotten him captured or killed. Logan wouldn't understand why he did that, but Max did. She might gripe about Alec's lack of discipline and his occasionally less than orthodox escapades, but where it mattered, she understood Alec because they were not all that different.

He understood her, not for who she wanted to be and the normal image she hoped to someday have, but for who she truly was. More importantly, he accepted her for who she was here and now. That was the biggest difference between he and Logan. Logan wanted to protect her, fix her and help her crawl out from the Manticore shadow. Alec would have her back but knew she didn't need protection, she only wanted shelter some of the time, and he didn't want to fix her. He didn't see anything wrong with her. He was willing to do whatever it took to give that to her what she wanted, a chance to be who she was without hiding and without fearing it.

All that stood in his way were her feelings for Logan. The man himself was not the issue. It was Max's heart and mind that were the obstacle. He knew how to do it, as well. Love was new to Alec, but war was not. The one thing each had in common: there were no rules; every action was considered fair as long as you were victorious in the end.

Alec looked at Logan and no longer felt sorry for him. They were equals in this fight; that Logan didn't appear to know there was a battle on the horizon wasn't Alec's problem. He grinned at him.

"Let's call us even," Alec said with a nod.

"Okay, but I'll also call it suspicious," Logan said cautiously. "What's going on?"

"A lot, everywhere," Alec shrugged. "Thought you were on top of all that. Me, I'm just a bodyguard, right?"

"No, I mean…," Logan began. "Max said you were acting… a little off. I know we cleared up things after I spoke to Asha, but now I'm wondering. No offense, but you're never this… mature."

"Oh, don't let that worry you," Alec said affably. "You've just never dealt with me in mission mode. Discipline, duty, focus. The mission is what matters and stuff like that. That's where I'm at right now. I'll get back to inappropriate comments and slacking off once this is done. Good luck and give my best to Max."

He clapped Logan bracingly on the shoulder and walked out of the room whistling.

**# # # #**

Max lay under the sheets of Logan's bed listening to the soft murmur of his light snore. She stared at the ceiling as her mind slugged her with one thought after another. Logan had been more of an optimist than she. In anticipation of the treatment being successful, he had a romantic evening waiting for them back at his home. When Brezhenski's vaccination proved successful, Logan announced their plans were set for the evening.

It was not the fairy tale setting his penthouse would have been, but she had no qualms about the location. She understood why he did not want to wait until there was a better time. They had put this night off for two years.

She joined him, gladly if hesitantly. Now, she was awake in the still of the night, wondering what should happen next. Her mind was restless and itched with questions and comments that brought her no peace.

_It was nice_, she thought with a sigh as she shifted under the sheets.

She wasn't disappointed. However, she was acutely aware that she also wasn't unconscious from a tidal wave of ecstasy. Not that she needed to be. Logan was a capable lover. He was thoughtful and gentle. She had no complaints. It was… nice.

That was the problem. It was _just_ nice.

She felt ashamed of herself for expecting something more. This what worried her about this evening. There was no way it could live up to her desires, her unrequited fantasies. She had yearned to be with Logan for so long that truthfully she felt certain he could never live up to her imaginings of the evening. Dinner was simple but elegant, but they'd had fancy and special dinners before. There were candles and some Italian dish whose name she never fully caught, like they had often before. There was some dusty bottle of wine; Logan was quite impressed with the name of it and its history—like he had been so often. He also served some dessert that had layers of cream and warm fruit. It was quite classy.

Max had no complaints.

Except that it was basically the same evening they'd had together numerous times over the previous two years. Only, in the past, there was a longing in her heart for it to be more than just dinner that gave those previous evening a bittersweet romantic feel. Their tortured love always ending with nothing more than a longing glance.

Now, that immense chasm was crossed, and she was disappointed. It was rare that she felt reduced to her feline genes, but during this evening, Max felt like she should be sitting on a velvet pillow the whole time like a prized pet on display.

Logan's nerves were evident. Hers as well, although for a very different reason. He had longed to be with her and worried about getting every aspect of the night perfect. Max worried there was too much anticipation and hype in their minds (and bodies) for the night to meet their expectations. While she was certain Logan was not disappointed (his slight grin on his sleeping face told the story), Max felt guilty that she was not as satisfied.

She was mostly happy, she supposed. This was a good evening. There was no terrible moment of the virus suddenly returning with a vengeance. There was no abrupt interruption from friend or foe alike informing them of some catastrophe. No one even accidentally interrupted and needed to bid a hasty and awkward retreat.

It was… placid. That was the word. It was like a smooth body of water. No battles. No gales. Nothing to cause any tumult. Of course, that also meant there were no ripples and certainly no waves, the kind that could crash over her with immense power or toss her in a wild but exhilarating, passionate way.

The most exciting thing was her previous excitement for the evening. The disappointment, she decided, was unworthy of her. It was selfish and shallow, an observation she would expect of Alec rather than herself.

_Alec_?

_No_.

She shifted restlessly in the bed as she scolded herself for the thought and the slight pang of regret she felt in her stomach. There should be no thoughts of Alec. Not at this time and not in this place. Max found herself thinking and dreaming of him too often in her own bed as it was. He was not going to invade her time with Logan, especially while they were in bed. Waking moments in the command center and unconscious flashes in her subconscious during dream states were bad enough; a post-coital appearance in her mind was inconceivable and unconscionable.

Max sighed quietly and looked at the clock on the bedside table. One hour. It had been one hour since dinner ended, and they had repaired to Logan's bedroom. It had been roughly 30 minutes since Logan dropped off to sleep. Max again scolded herself for keeping track so precisely, particularly the part where the 30 minutes prior was spent on a few things in addition to actual physical contact. The lighting of more candles, the queuing up of some musical composition that Logan favored and then a slow peeling of clothing. That left only a fraction of their time together as actual time together.

Prior to this night with Logan, the only sexual contact MX had in the previous two years was a heat-induced frenzy with Rafer. She was still ashamed of that. She hated when she succumbed to the animalistic urges of her DNA. It made her a slave to the cocktail so purposefully brewed in the Manticore lab. It was unfair. Not all female transgenics suffered from it—only those with the right amount of feline DNA. The males did not have to worry about their own urges. They either appeared to have none or were able to work them into their everyday life (like Alec) by hitting on or simply putting it to any woman who caught their eyes (again, like Alec).

_Stop it_, Max scowled and punched a divot in her pillow. _No_ _more of the A-word_.

She either needed to get up and find something to do until Logan woke or get her mind to relax enough to sleep. Letting her mind drift or (worse) fixate on the obnoxious pain in the ass who was making plans to have his own luxury spa weekend (probably complete with an after symposium visit from whoever the hottest female at the conference turned out to be) during their security duty for BioCorp in two weeks time made her angry. She gnashed her teeth and reminded herself that thoughts of Alec had no place in her head while she was with Logan. Alec, she was certain, wasn't burdened with thoughts of her at this time or any time he was away from her. He was certainly back at TC at that moment, she reasoned, not giving her any thought.

**# # # #**

Max stood in front of the blueprints of the Crystal Mountain Resort. It was a sprawling complex at the foot of the mountain some 50 miles south of Seattle. There were dense forests surrounding it. It was a bad location to guard; a great location to ambush. It was remote, and there was only one, serpentine road leading to the hotel.

She studied the layout of the hotel, the service elevators, stairways, ventilation system and even the electrical system. She wanted to dissection the hotel and know every entry and exit possibility so she could formulate a contingency plan for each should it prove to be an incursion point. As she looked at the plans now pinned to the wall, she heard someone enter the office. Max continued to focus on the mechanical drawings as the visitor approached and stood very close.

Alec looked over Max's shoulder and studied the plans as well. He was near enough to stand in her shoes. He reached around herand pointed to the east side of the structure. She swallowed hard as his body brushed against hers.

"We should make sure we consider timing and weather issues, not just points of access," he said, tapping the drawing. "Here, along the east, the sun will be rising around 7:50. Depending on cloud cover, that could make a full scale onslaught harder to spot."

Max nodded. She doubted any trouble would arrive in such a blaze of aggression. However, she had tasked everyone involved with the BioCorp job to give her every idea or possibility they could think of. Everyone had offered suggestions, but no one had offered more than Alec. She was surprised, impressed even, at his tactical mind. They were now scraping the bottom of the barrel with possibilities, but he was still offering them hours after everyone else had given up, gone to bed or headed off for other pursuits. Alec alone remained, staring at the plans with her and throwing out any suggestion that came to mind.

"Weather," she nodded. "I never thought about weather. Why didn't I think about weather?"

"Because you're thinking of a million other things," he said, leaning closer still, his cheek within a hair's width of brushing against hers as he looked over her shoulder.

Max sighed and growled. She hung her head then shook it. She was startled a moment later when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she asked suddenly.

"A stressed leader is a bad leader," Alec said, kneading the knots in her shoulders. "You're too tense, Max."

"Stop that," she said.

"Why?" he asked, continuing. "Does it hurt? Bother you?"

"No, it's… good," she said, stretching her neck languidly to the side for a moment. "It's just… don't."

"Don't worry," he said without pausing in the massage. "I'm not going to ask you to return the favor, and I won't tell you to turn around to I can work on the front side."

Max chuckled and hung her head. She was stressed. She was worried. She was also hungry and her head was spinning from all the planning, strategizing, tearing apart of the plans and the strategies. She moaned lightly as the knots in her shoulders and neck grew more supple under his touch. The strength and warmth of his hands was relaxing yet invigorating.

"Alec," she said softly, knowing she should pull away or make him stop, but at the same time regretting it. "Why are you still here?"

"You said we're working together," he replied. "Work's not done."

"You're never this dedicated," she noted. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Some of the best stories you could ever hope to hear," Alec said. "Like, this time Biggs and I had to hike our way out of Afghanistan over a mountain. Talk about cold. You ever climbed to 28,000 feet? It's like the sky loses all color; it's not blue anymore because the air is too thin to reflect the colors in the sunlight so everything gets dark and kind of black, but at night…. The stars, Max, would blow your mind."

"Stop it," she said shaking her head.

"Okay, how about this other time," he continued, "I was coming back from Bulgaria. I had to sabotage a computer and corrupt the files belonging to this guy who trafficked girls into brothels in…"

"Oh, I don't want to hear this," Max said, twisting out of his grasp and turning to glare at him. "Any of it."

"Oh, come on," he said. "I wasn't buying the girls. I was screwing over the guy who was selling them. I offered to kill him."

"Alec," she shook her head and walked away. "New rule: No more sharing from you."

"Seriously?" he asked, folding his arms. "I'm hurt by that, Max. We're going to work together on this operation and you hardly know me."

"Hardly know you?" she gaped. "Alec, I know all I need to know about you—more than I need to know, in fact. Lately, you never shut up about… you."

He stared back at her, offering her an honestly disappointed and mildly offended expression.

"I want you to know me," he said after a lengthy pause.

Max looked at him with an uncertain expression. She heard the desperation and yearning in his tone. There was desire in his eyes and something she hadn't seen from him since the night Ames White placed an explosive in his head: fear.

"Alec?" she asked hesitantly.

"Know what?" he said standing up quickly and offering a fake yawn. "It's late. I need some rest, and you apparently want to be alone. I'll… pick up on this tomorrow."

He turned to leave but did not get to the door before she called him back.

"Alec, I didn't mean that like it sounded," Max said. "I'm just… There's a lot going on and I'm not… handling it well."

"You're trained to handle it," he offered. "You're specifically engineered to handle it better than this. The BioCorp thing is a cakewalk, Max. What's the real problem?"

She shook her head. She didn't know. Not for certain. Saying so wouldn't help matters, nor would telling Alec that whatever it was, he was playing a role in it. He hadn't asked her about her night with Logan. Not that she expected him to, but she had anticipated several loaded comments about it. But none were spoken. He was restrained, tame almost, and for reasons she didn't care to probe, she was the one who felt regret.

**# # # #**

The next 48 hours were busy as they finished prepping for their journey to the Crystal Mountain Resort. The plan was for the support team (Cactus, Taylor, Zero and Dylan) to take their posts at intervals. Two showing up early as new hires for BioCorp security. The other two doing the same as security for the resort. Max and Alec were to journey to the resort together in a car arranged by Logan. Their cover stories were that of a company president and her subordinate who were attending the conference with an eye toward investing.

There was no additional information on the threat BioCorp feared. Logan's sources were proving unhelpful, which made Max edgy. Alec was relaxed and unconcerned. He prophesied, much to her aggravation, that the intel was wrong and they were in for a quiet and uneventful few days in the mountains. Max feared he wasn't taking it seriously and hoped she was wrong. She was, however, no longer feeling guilty that she had called a week earlier to nix his plans for an upgraded room. It would not look good for their cover story if her assistant had the best room in the hotel when she was stuck in an economy room. As they made the last hairpin turn on the mountain road and the majestic hotel came into view, Max smiled anticipating the look for surprise on Alec's face when he learned he was staying in simple room with a single bed, no Jacuzzi tub, no balcony and no view of the mountain. She grinned remembering the best part: His previously paid upgrade would not be refunded. _That_, she thought, _will teach him to break protocol and try to one up the boss._

They entered the soaring lobby with its fountain and marble floors. Max quickly made her way to the reception desk while Alec wandered the room, taking in the surroundings. She wanted to check in and be able to stand back and observe the disappointment on Alec's face when his "vacation in the mountains" fell apart. She quickly placed her new ID and reservation paperwork on the desk as a young man with spiky hair and pock-marked face and a name tag that read "Chip" greeted her with a practiced smile. He typed into the computer then chewed his lip and looked back at Max with an apologetic expression as he told her she did not have a room.

"I'm sorry, what?" Max asked the desk clerk. "You don't have my reservation?"

"Sorry, Ma'am," Chip replied. "It appears you canceled it."

"No, I didn't," she shook her head.

"Is there a problem?" as stuffy, bald man with a suit and no nametag asked as he stepped closer. "I'm the manager, Mr. Thomas."

"Yes, sir," Chip replied nervously. "It appears this reservation was canceled, except she now says that didn't happen. She's here for the conference."

"Let me see," the man said, furiously typing on the computer. "Sorry for the inconvenience. The software was recently upgraded and there are a few bugs still. Ah, here it is. Yes, a cancellation on Sunday by Ms. Olivia Connors."

"No," Max said as she felt someone arrive behind her. "I didn't cancel my reservation on Sunday. I… It wasn't mine that was cancelled."

From the closeness of the body and the invasion of her personal space, she knew it must be Alec. She turned her head slightly, feeling her face grow red with embarrassment and anger, to see him grinning happily at her.

"Something wrong?" Alec asked. "They lose the reservation?"

Max could not tell if he was genuinely surprised she did not have a room or if this was part of some elaborate double cross. She clenched her jaw and offered him a hard stare.

"Apparently," she said then focused her anger on Chip. "Just get me a room."

"Well, you see," Chip said swallowing nervously, "there aren't any. We're sold out."

"Sold out?" Alec shook his head. "That is a problem."

"Sir, I can help you," Thomas stated crisply, leaving Max to deal with Chip, as he stepped to the next terminal.

Alec handed him the print out of his confirmation with his phony ID.

"Well, you see, if Olivia's reservation is missing…," he began, the delight in his voice obvious.

"No need to worry, Mr. Greer," the manager replied sycophantically as he typed quickly. "Ah, here yours is. Mr. Ian Greer. Ah, that explains it. So sorry, Ma'am. This was our mistake."

The manager nodded to Max, his tone taking on an unctuous nature.

"It was?" Max asked. "So you have my room?"

"Yes, we have yours and Mr. Greer's room," he nodded. "You also have our congratulations. We did not think to transfer your registration to your upgraded room when you cancelled. That's all. So sorry for the delay. I presume you and your fiancé will each need separate keys. Will you need more than one each?"

"I'm sorry?" Max gaped and looked back at Alec who looked equally dumbfounded but recovered quicker than she did.

"No, one each is fine," Alec replied.

"Of course, sir," Thomas replied, handing Alec a business card. "If there is anything else I can do to make your stay more comfortable, please do not hesitate to contact me. Would you like us to take your bags?"

"Oh, no need, Mr. Thomas, but thank you," Alec said with a professional smile then draped his arm around Max and turned her toward the elevators. "See dear, I told you it would be fine."

Max glared at him but did not resist his attempts to lead her away as they crossed the lobby to the lift. They entered the car and the doors closed. The moment after they did, Alec clapped his hands and doubled over laughing. He grinned widely and tears threatened to stream out of his eyes.

"Oh, this is priceless," he chuckled. "You tried to screw me out of my room and did it to yourself instead!"

"Shut up," she growled and thrust her elbow into his chest. "You did this!"

"I did, but it was so worth it," Alec winced in pain but kept grinning.

"That is less pain than you deserve," Max seethed.

Alec stood up straight, taking a painful breath, then put his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh, now sweetie, don't be like that," he continued. "This will be like a prelude to the honeymoon."

Max turned swiftly and put her hand to his throat as the car continued to rise. She pinned him against the wall, but he kept smiling.

"You know, if this keeps up," he said, his voice slightly strangled under the pressure of her hand, "you're definitely sleeping on the couch."

"What did you do?" she seethed as the doors opened.

She released Alec from her hold an stomped down the hall. He followed her, still chuckling, as he explained.

"Nothing really," he said vehemently. "Honestly, Max. I didn't do anything. I called and confirmed my reservation, and they told me it was on hold because they received a call downgrading my room, but they needed me to confirm that was the case. I told them I didn't want to downgrade. I said they must have misunderstood when my fiancée called. They apologized for the mistake and said they could give me another upgrade for free; I got the penthouse suite out of it. That's all. They must have decided you meant to cancel yours on their own because I did not do that."

They arrived at the door. Alec slotted the key and pushed open the door to reveal a sprawling room with an amazing view of the mountains. The room was actually a suite with a separate sitting room, a bathroom the size of normal bedroom and an immense sleeping chamber with a bed that could have been its own sector in Seattle. Alec nodded acceptingly as he turned to Max and grinned.

Max turned and glared at him. She wasn't sure she believed his plea of innocence until that moment. After looking at the exquisite accommodations, she knew he was being truthful. If he wanted to mess with her as payback for trying to put him in an economy room, he would never have saddled himself with her in a room like this. He would have wanted to savor it for himself, taunting and teasing her about it or make her beg to crash on one of the three leather sofas in the sitting area near the fireplace. He may have even resisted giving her that much as a room like this was a place where he could take any number of unsuspecting conference attendees. Digs like this would make scoring even easier for him.

"I'll… sleep there," Max said throwing her bag disgustedly on the floor near one of the sofas.

"You sure?" he asked, looking into the bedroom. "You could put four people in that bed and not notice."

"I'm fine," she scowled.

"Suit yourself," Alec said and walked to the windows with his arms thrown wide. He opened the French doors to the balcony and inhaled the crisp air deeply. "I should live like this."

"We're not here to relax or enjoy the view," she said, although she caught herself taking a lingering look at his posterior as he leaned forward on the railing.

Alec turned slyly, as if feeling the weight of her stare. He re-entered the room and grinned assuredly at her as he leered back. The power and intentions behind his gaze made her mouth go dry and made her skin feel hot and tingly.

"Speak for yourself," he said.

"How have you not suffocated under the weight of your ego?" Max asked, but she heard her voice quake with weakness where there should have been a hint of acid.

Rather than jab back with another comment, Alec walked up to her and looked her up and down with a smoldering expression. When he spoke, it was in a hushed and husky tone and gave Max shivers.

"Practice," he said. "Your clothes… you going to leave them on the floor?"

"Excuse me?" Max asked, mesmerized by his stare. She wasn't sure precisely what he said or what it meant, but she feared that if he asked her to do anything with her clothes in that instant, she would consider it.

"Your clothes," Alec said, looking down at her bag as his tone shifted back to casual. "You should hang them up; we're supposed to look like fussy professionals in the morning and at the reception in the evening."

Max nodded and turned her back. She grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom to hang up the garments so the heat of the shower could steam the wrinkles out. Once inside, she took a deep breath and leaned heavily on the sink. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed and her eyes looked dazed, much as they had back at TC when she feared she was in heat.

_Maybe it's an allergy_, she thought fanning herself as her mind flashed back to the way Alec looked at her in the room moments before. _If there is anyone on the planet I would be allergic to, it's probably Alec_, she nodded. Her moment of private wondering was interrupted as she suddenly heard his voice in the doorway startling her.

"Hot flash?" he asked. He stood blocking the doorway with his arms folded as he leaned on the door frame.

"No," she scoffed. "And do you mind? This isn't community space."

"My room," he shrugged.

"Our room," she said.

"So, are we engaged or just shacking up for the conference?" he asked curiously.

"Are you going to be like this the whole time?" she asked turning her back to him as she began pulling her clothing from her bag.

"I'm me all the time," he offered. "You know, I'm no expert on women's clothing—other than how to get you to take them off—but isn't it easier to hang them up if you hangers?"

Max growled in frustration and shoved past him back into the bedroom. She pounded across the room and opened the closet doors and quickly grabbed several hangers from the closet. She half expected to turn around and find Alec on her heels. He seemed to live there lately. Every time she turned around, there was Alec just a few inches behind her.

However, she was mistaken. She turned, mildly disappointed and quite surprised, to find he had not followed her. She returned to the bathroom to learn why.

"Nice," he said, holding a lacey top that he had extracted from her bag. "You go braless with this or…"

"Give me that," she said, snatching it from his fingers. "Enough, Alec! Okay, I get it. You're enjoying this. I am not."

"Then why do you keep smiling?" he asked.

"I am not smiling now," she said firmly.

"Not with your mouth, no," he shook his head while seeming to agree with her.

"No," she shook her head and pushed past him again and started forcefully thrusting her clothing onto the hangers.

"But with your eyes," he assured her and gently brushed his fingers against her cheek. "A little bit, right there in the corners."

"Stop it," she said calmly while batting his hand away. She shook her head to clear it as she felt a fiery surge from his touch. "Game over, Alec, or so help me I will kick your ass clear across this suite."

Alec laughed and shook his head as he walked away unconcerned.

"You're so uptight," he said but sounded appreciative more than critical. "You almost make bad-tempered sexy, Max. That's impressive."

He returned to the sitting room and turned his attention to the immense flat screen TV on them wall above the fireplace. He turned it on and sunk into one of the sofas with his propped up on the coffee table. He sighed contentedly, appearing to forget Max was even there. She peered at him from the doorway, watching him lose all interest in hassling her as entertainment. She ducked back into the bathroom to finish hanging her clothing. She picked up her silk and lace camisole from the floor and swallowed hard.

# # # #

The rest of the afternoon was spent walking the corridors and grounds of the hotel. Max took the north and east sides; Alec covered the south and west. They met back in the room as the winter sun began to sink behind the mountain. Despite her normally elevated body temperature, Max was chilled by the time she arrived. Alec was not there. She called his cellphone to determine that he had not gotten lost. He reported he had not and was in the lobby on his way up to the room. Max decided to make use of the quiet and went to the most attractive aspect of the room: the deep jet tub in the bathroom. She heard Alec return and shouted to him that he was, under no circumstances, to enter the bathroom until after she left it.

She was hesitant to climb into the foamy, steamy waters at first, but it beckoned her without yielding. She sunk into the hot waters. She steeped there until the water grew tepid. She climbed out, her skin wrinkled like a prune but smelling of gardenias. While not usually a girlie girl, there was something about the luxury of the posh room that made her weak to its pleasures.

She stepped into the living room to find Alec staring at the TV, watching some loud and busy music video, then something involving a volcano, then a weather report. He flicked through channel after channel, staying on none long enough to get involved or interested in it. How Alec, Max thought as she shook her head.

"You enjoying the view of the back of my head?" he asked without turning. "You know, if you'd have been in there another few minutes, I was going to violate your order not to go in there. I was beginning to wonder if you drowned."

"I had it covered," Max replied walking casually to the other side of the sofa. "Find anything on your walk through?"

"Nope," he shook his head. "Trees, parking lot, hallways. Just like we expected. If not for this room, this trip would be a waste of time."

He then stood abruptly and stripped off his shirt. Max stared at him, wondering why he was undressing but also admiring the definition of his abs and pectoral muscles.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Max asked, trying to keep her face impassive. "We're sharing a room, Alec. Don't get any other ideas."

He shook his head and laughed lightly.

"Well, I'm not the one having those ideas, Max," he said heading back toward the bedroom. "I'm hopping in the shower now that you've finished doing a hundred laps in the tub. Oh, by the way, I ordered room service; if it shows up, sign for it."

Max looked down, embarrassed by her in correct assumption and a little put off by his summary dismissal of her allegation of ulterior motives.

"What did you get to eat?" she asked.

"Why, worried I didn't ask for oysters?" he inquired, turning to grin at her mischievously. "If you want some, call the kitchen. For me, I ordered real food. I ordered enough for both of us so feel free to eat whatever you like, just leave some for me."

Alec then left the room. Max heard the shower start some time later. She sat on the couch staring at the fireplace. It was a gas fed flame and while the room was plenty warm, she enjoyed the flickering light it cast across the room so she left it on. She stared at the dancing flames entranced by their swirling light until she was startled by sounds coming from the bathroom. The room was well insulated so she doubted that the average person would have noticed the sound. She perked her sensitive ears to it and her face broke into a spontaneous smile: Alec was singing in the shower.

She did not know the song, but she wasn't all that into music. She listened to his crooning with appreciation. Alec's voice was actually rather smooth and controlled, making it evident he did this often. She continued to grin, listening to the tune (trying not to imagine how he looked in there) as she watched the fire. Room service arrived several minutes later. The gloved waiter rolled in the table covered with silver domed dishes. Max delved into the wallet she located in Alec's jacket pocket and gave a sizeable tip to the man before she began peaking under the covers. She had to give this to Alec, he did know how to treat himself. Every delectable item on the menu was there (including desserts).

She heard the shower stop and figured if he took as much time getting dressed after the shower as he took in there, the food would be cold so she helped herself. After all, she reasoned, he told her to do so. From the remaining cash in his wallet, he could order more if she polished off something he wanted for himself.

"Did you leave me any?" he asked as he stepped back into the room to see her seated at the table with a full plate in front of her.

"You said to start without you," Max reminded him then blanched as he took a seat beside her.

He was wearing only a robe. Max swallowed the green bean in her mouth quickly.

"Why are you wearing that?" she asked as he began picking through the entrees.

"Want me to take it off?" he asked. "Max, I gotta say, you are spending a lot of time undressing me with your eyes. We've got work to do here. If it helps you rest those peepers, I can just strip down right now and make it easy for you."

"You really are a pig," she said, but her face felt hot. She stared down at her plate and pushed the food around forcefully.

"I'm going to bed to get some sleep after I eat, and I don't wear clothes when I sleep usually," he said. "Too damn hot."

"You think so," she scoffed trying to sound sour and hoping her voice didn't sound as appreciative to him as it had to her.

Alec chuckled and shook his head. He did not respond, which left her wondering why. The dinner was quiet for several long minutes. Max wasn't sure what she should say as she could think of no topic of interest to her. She also wasn't sure her voice wouldn't betray her as her throat felt tight and dry. She took a long pull on her beer bottle then stared at it, thinking she finally had something to say.

"You spent all this money on this meal," she noted. "I mean, it's gourmet all the way, but you didn't order wine. You went with beer."

"Not a wine kind of guy," he shrugged, snatching the wedge of chocolate and strawberry cheese cake on the corner of the table. "Wine is… pretentious. It, and the people who think it's the be all end all, parade around like it's the nectar of the dogs when all it really is is nothing more than arrogant and obsequious old grape juice. Beer, however, is honest."

"Honest?" she asked.

She wondered if she was over analyzing as she wondered if the discussion was larger than simply the difference between beer and wine. She told herself to stop looking for trouble and reminded herself this was Alec and deep was not something he did.

"Yes, honest," he said. "You can think it's simple or less than impressive because it's just fermented hops and barley. But there's nothing wrong with that. That is what it is. Nothing more. Nothing less and it doesn't try to pass itself off as anything else. That makes it genuine. Sure, it's not polished or flashy and it probably won't win any awards for style, but it also isn't trying to impress or be something it is not so… honest."

Max cocked her head to the side. She knew she wasn't imagining it. There was a look in Alec's eye. He was baiting her. He was subtly pushing buttons and drawing her a picture. She thought back to the discussion in her office about what she saw in Logan and Alec's admission of jealousy.

"What's going on?" Max asked. "Are you trying to impress me?"

"Are you impressed?" he grinned.

"By you?" Max scoffed. "No."

"Then that's not what I was trying to do," Alec shrugged. "You know, I can be honest with you and just be talking."

"The question is why," she asked.

"We work together," he said. "You should know me better—the real me, not the Alec you've made up your mind about based on a year of extreme circumstances."

"Alec, very little about you isn't extreme," she offered. "You know, you might not be so aggravating if you didn't talk so much. You might seem more impressive if you kept quieter—a little mystery might help your image."

"Ah, you said more impressive—that means you are impressed," he reasoned and flashed a wide, satisfied grin. "Look, Maxie, I spent the first 20 years of my life basically alone. I actually don't like it much. Talking is one way to not have to think about it. Besides, I'm a fascinating kind of guy."

"Are you?" Max asked. "Fascinating?"

"Unbelievably," Alec nodded. "World traveler."

"Covert assassin," she translated.

"Multilingual," he continued.

"Again, covert assassin," Max said.

"Ballroom dancer, " he countered. Max choked on her guffaw. "That also was part of one of the covert operations, but not as an assassin."

"Ballroom?" she repeated as she laughed in disbelief.

"Okay, maybe not like competition level, but there was this royal who was attending gala at the British Embassy in Rome when I was on my way back from Bulgaria and I was supposed to…," he began but Max pounded her hand on the table as she continued to laugh and shook her head. "I'm serious."

She opted to believe him, once she got her breath back, rather than force him to demonstrate. She did not want to think what tangoing with Alec in his hotel room while he was wearing only a robe would do to her dreams. She had to get some sleep if she was going to be at her best over the next two days, but she did not know if she was still talking in her sleep. Calling out Alec's name while he was in the next room would simply lead to trouble she did not want to tackle.

They spent a long evening at the table. Later, as she lay on the couch watching the flames waving her off to sleep, Max couldn't recall most of the topics. She knew only that the evening disappeared more quickly than she liked. Whether it was the good food, the comfortable setting, or the fact that she found she laughed more with Alec than she did most other people, she felt relaxed despite the unknowns they were facing over the next two days. She lost track of time or her concerns as the night grew deeper. By the time she was nearly asleep, she remembered that she had not called Logan. She looked quickly at her phone and saw that she had missed a single call. She saw that it was from him, but there was no message.

**# # # #**

Morning arrived. Max felt terrible about missing Logan's call. She tried to call him back, but left a message apologizing for her oversight. She did not tell him why she missed the call; she couldn't say for certain why. She just never heard the phone ring. Whether that was because there was something wrong with the signal in the mountains, whether she was in the tub at the time or she was too involved with something else, she did not know. And, she decided, it did not matter. What mattered was concentrating on the task at hand: The conference.

She was up before Alec, unsurprisingly. She got dressed in her suit and waited for him as he took his time getting ready. First, he took his time eating breakfast that he ordered from room service. She wolfed down a piece of toast and urged him to hurry up. He did not rush his breakfast and took a shower, again singing through it, before appearing dressed in his day clothing.

"Just stick to your brief," Max ordered him one final time as she straightened her jacket using the reflection in the balcony doors as a mirror.

She wore a dark skirt suit. Despite Alec's recommendation, the hem line was conservative. She also had her hair pulled back in a stuffy low pony tail and sported a pair of dark rimmed faux glasses. Her shoes were of the dull and sensible fashion. According to Logan, this look would go better with her cover ID. Max agreed.

Alec had more freedom with his ID. He was the assistant, the much needed and well-informed right hand of the woman in-charge, but that meant he had a privileged post and likely would flaunt his coveted position to his co-workers. For that reason, Logan told Max not to veto whatever he chose for his wardrobe. She wondered why Logan would mention this until she saw the news article showing a break-in at a high end store in Section 3. Alec, of course, stole only the very best.

"Trust me, Max," he said in a bored tone as he stepped out of the bedroom. "Not a virgin."

"Yeah, I know, but…," she said turning to face him. The rest of her sentence got stuck in her throat.

When Alec stole the very best, he made sure it was the absolute best. The suit, something surely with a designer Italian label that even the most corrupt politician in Seattle would covet, was a dark, supple fabric that look like it was cut specifically for him. The shirt was stark and crisp; the tie was flecked with a color that perfectly matched his eyes. For a moment, Max actually felt under dressed and more like the assistant until Alec spoke.

"Don't carry that leather folder," he said, taking it from her. "I work for you. You're hands free. I'm the labor here."

"Right," she nodded, smoothing the side of her hair. "Right. Okay. So, we work the room. We look for whoever doesn't seem to fit in."

"Other than us," he nodded. "And no cervical breaks if we find someone. Check."

Max narrowed her eyes at him as he grinned back in mock obedience. She was firm about this. He was not to use force on anyone unless there was no other way to deal with the situation. She had his word he would follow this instruction. She looked at him and hoped she was right to trust him.

"Shall we?" he asked, pointing to the door. "Or would you prefer to delay a little longer? I'm ready to go, but if you need a few more minutes to ogle me for you pleasure and fantasies, I can wait."

"What?" Max snapped.

She scoffed and turned her head away then stomped to the elevator, looking pointedly away from him once she got inside it. She ground her teeth and murmured something about Alec being conceited and full of himself. He chuckled quietly as he joined her in the car. He stood behind her, telling her it was the proper position for a subordinate. She rolled her eyes and hoped the slight flush she felt on her face, the one that erupted every time he was this close to her lately, wasn't obvious. She punched the button for the mezzanine level where the conference was due to begin shortly.

Max took a steadying breath and caught the faintest hint of cologne. It was subtle and seductive; like Alec's suit, it was high end and likely stolen as part of the expertly crafted ensemble. It struck her as mildly odd that the scent was so faint; only someone with her senses would register it. This brought a slight blush to her cheeks and the faintest hint of a grin. She was glad he was behind her and could not see her expression. However, it seemed Alec was reading her thoughts.

"You clean up nice, too, Max," he said. "You've got that stuffy yet sexy CEO vibe going. I still think you should have gone with a shorter skirt, but that's your call. I guess this means Logan isn't all that secure, huh?"

"Logan is fine," she scowled. "I'm not a strip-o-gram. I'm serious business woman."

"Then I suggest not giving me the bedroom eyes unless you want them to think you're sleeping with your executive assistant," Alec said. "Or are we going with the fiancée twist on our story still?"

"No," she snarled and shook her head, refusing to look at him for fear her expression would confirm his allegation. "And what do you mean I'm giving you bedroom eyes? I'm not."

"Is it easier to maintain the denial act?" he asked. "I would think it gets exhausting, fighting all that frustrating resistance and camouflaging your feelings. I gotta say, you're a hell of a trooper, Max. I couldn't keep up the charade."

"What charade?" she said tensely, keeping her eyes forward. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Really?" Alec said. "You know, for me, sometimes, I think it's too bad we aren't as easily chemically manipulated as an Ordinary."

Max looked over her should at him in confusion. His face sported a serious and profound look. Alec never found anything special about a normal human. He didn't think them inferior, like the way Mole did, but he certainly never envied them. Her expression asked the question for her.

"I just mean, it's unfortunate, especially for someone as uptight as you, that we can't do like they do when we get in a situation like this," he said. "After all, there's this open bar reception tonight that could have solved your problem."

"What problem is that?" Max asked.

"Your ever-increasing attraction to me," he said confidently. "If you and I were Ordinaries, we could just get drunk and tell each other everything we're afraid to while we're sober."

"Your imagination is colossal, you know that?" she scoffed and shook her head. "I don't have anything to tell you, drunk or sober."

Alec stepped close to her, reaching his hand around her waist to the inside of her suit jacket, caressing her abdomen. He felt her muscles tighten beneath the silk and lace camisole and waited for her elbow to jab viciously into his chest, but it did not. When she did not shove him away, he leaned in to speak directly in her ear.

"Liar," he said in a raspy, breathy whisper.

The doors opened and Alec stepped out, but not before lightly running his hand over the left side of Max's ass. He kept walking, eyes forward, as she remained behind or a moment. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she pressed her mildly quivering hand to her chest over her racing heart. She shook her head and focused on her task while trying very hard not to focus on Alec as he walked way in his perfectly fitting suit that fit and draped as though it was made specifically for him and him alone.

**# # # #**


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 8)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Here's the next installment as promised—earlier than expected, but I had a snow day (I have a rule, any day below 10 degrees with snow = me not working on my novel…. I made that rule up just for you guys). Unfortunately for chapter 9, better weather is on the way so back to the other writing now. Chapter 9 could take another two weeks (I haven't even started it yet, yikes!). As always, my apologies for the typos, and I appreciate all the comments and reviews. You guys are the best!

* * *

**# # # #**

Max nodded her head listening but not hearing as the tall man with the long nose and wandering eyes droned on to her about a financial prospectus that was backing his bid to get a piece of several of BioCorps anticipated patents. His interest was allegedly in vaccines for common illnesses that were once doled out to all children in the U.S. as a standard procedure. However, the advent of the Pulse changed everything. Where once measles were considered a thing of the past, there were now outbreaks in several sectors of the US. The man boring man was hoping to make a killing on offering up the cure once again.

"I'm a business man and dealing with all this bio manipulation stuff makes my skin crawl, but what a great location to get the dirty deed done, huh?" he remarked, stepping closer to her and placing his hand on her lower back. "I mean, if you've got to get into bed with something you despise, this is the place, huh?"

He winked at Max and then leered at her confidently. She looked at him coldly and was about to let him know what gave her that dirty, skin crawling feeling when Alec appeared, now wearing a pair of round, steel-framed glasses and carrying her leather folder while sporting an inquisitive look.

"Ms. Connors," he said, placing himself between Max and her admirer. "I think we may have some competing interest on the female libido enhancing therapies that the board was most interested in. Could you maybe come over and speak with a few people? I'm afraid our bargaining position is not as strong as we thought."

"Of course," Max said and smiled blandly at her tall, admirer. "Sorry, business calls. You know, if your vaccine bid doesn't work, maybe we can work together in another field."

"Oh, are you in need of any male hormone replacement for those with low testosterone or reproductive enhancement medications?" Alec asked as the man's face turned bright red. "For your company's investments, I mean."

The man choked for a moment on his tongue. While he gathered his composure, Max tugged Alec's sleeve and led him to the opposite side of the room. She informed him that she had not encountered anything that raised her suspicion. No one appeared overly interested in any of the presentation; the fact that anyone was interested in any of them at all was a shock to her.

"Well, that's because you are talking to the wrong people," Alec said and smiled slyly at a short woman with shiny, bobbed hair and dark rimmed glasses.

"You are seriously not hitting on the poor girls who work for these people," Max sighed. "This is not take your libido for a walk week, Alec."

"Manticore gave us lots of skills, Max," Alec smiled. "I cannot surgically remove or get a shot to dial back my charm and overwhelming sex appeal to women."

Max glared at him disgustedly. She scoffed and folder her arms as she shook her head.

"You know, that really is the most despicable part of you," she said. "You actually believe what you just said."

"Are you bothered that I believe it or that you do, too?" he asked with a grin but did not give her the chance to respond. "That girl is Greta. She works for BioCorp."

"What are you doing talking to a secretary from BioCorp?" Max demanded.

"My job," he replied succinctly. "Sometimes, there are foxes in the hen house and in this instance, the fox is a real fox and as for the hens… Well, she's sharing a room with this other girl, Chelsea who has a really…"

Max stomped quickly on his foot, causing a wince to flash across his features. Alec swore quietly under his breath and glared back at her as he spoke in a quiet yet testy voice.

"We can't trust anyone, Max," he said hotly . "I know this because… well, I just do."

"Yeah, I know," Max replied with equal venom. "I don't trust you."

"I'd say I'm hurt, but it would be redundant considering you just broke my toe," Alec said through clenched teeth. "Look, Greta said something to me and…"

"My what pretty eyes you have?" Max ventured. "Or, I'm really into Appletini's?"

"Actually, yes, except she likes Tequila shooters," Alec offered. "What she said about her work was nearly as interesting. So, while you finish rubbing your… whatever it is that you're rubbing with your fellow hot shots at the reception this evening, I'll be down with the support staff in the bar plying Miss Tequila with, well, Tequila to get the dirt on her boss."

Max rolled her eyes and shook her head. She dreaded several more hours of idle conversation and the occasional pass and pinch by her fellow conference attendees. She was having hard time keeping her temper in check. The urge to put her fist through someone's sternum was strong. Her ire was only stoked by Alec's trolling of the secretary pool for his evening score. She smiled suddenly as a fix occurred for that at least.

"Fine," she said, turning up her nose and walking away.

In the far corner, a middle-aged man in a grey striped suit and wearing a name tag that read "James Cranston" watched Max with interest. He had mingled around her and her assistant throughout the afternoon. They were convincing in their roles, but he knew they were just playing roles. Their purpose at the conference was known to him as well, and he had no need or desire in catching their interest. He leaned back against the wall, pointing his gaze at his notes.

**# # # #**

Max sat with her legs and arms crossed tightly on the couch in front of the fireplace in Alec's room. It was nearing 9 p.m. and the room was in darkness. She spent two hours at the reception and, when she felt certain that nothing more than sad, business suit hook-ups were afoot, she left. As she left the reception, she had peaked into the bar on the lobby level of the hotel looking for her "assistant." She spied Alec holding court with several women. She recognized them as the assistants and secretaries who had spent the day running from presentation to presentation on the heels of her so-called executive peers. The women were young and eager things glad to be off the clock and (if their body language could be read accurately) looking to be on Alec's short-list for the evening. Their suits coats were long gone; the buttons on their shirts were threatening to take their leave as well. They pressed close to him, pawing him with their manicured nails and grinned at him with their tipsy smiles.

The sight stabbed at Max. She felt a burning, twisting sensation in her stomach. She grit her teeth and stalked away to the room. She sat in the quiet suite now, waiting for him to drag his evening's conquest back to the room. He had fun at her expense due to the hotel's mix up with the room when they first arrived; he even made a crack about being her fiancé just that morning and taunted her with claims of sensing an alleged attraction to him. _He looked good in a suit,_ she scoffed, _so what; he was arrogant and no matter how good lucking a guy might be, knowing he was good looking always detracted from the picture for her_. She knew Alec was trained to use his looks to his great advantage. _Well_, she thought, _let's see how he deals with bringing home his bimbo to find a fiancée waiting for him._

She grinned in a cold and nasty way as she swung her foot impatiently. She had even gone so far as to order an intimate table setting for them—complete with champagne and strawberries and candles (all charged to his room account)—so that when he returned with Miss Right Now, he would have a lot of explaining to do to her. Max fleetingly hoped the girl was the kind who would create a real scene and possibly throw a shoe at him. She could use a little theater that evening. To help that along, she had put on her own costume for the performance. At first, she considered slipping into some of her won attire but then recalled all she had to wear was a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Then the solution hit her. Max slipped out of her clothing and into the button down shirt Alec wore when they checked in (while doing her very best to ignore how strongly his scent clung to the cloth).

She knew she was going too far with this, but he honestly couldn't expect her to sit in the next room watching TV while he defiled a filing clerk. She had asked him (and told him) to be mindful that this was not a vacation or a flesh fest for him. He was supposed to be working, not sampling the conferences offerings.

She was looking at the clock on the wall as the minute hand swept the hour past 9 when she heard the lock on the door disengage. Max adjusted her position to kneel on the sofa provocatively but scowled as she moved to tousle her hair appropriately but then realized it was still clipped tightly at the nape of her neck.

_Great, I must look like I'm chairing a board meeting for strippers_, she scolded herself as she tried to arrange her face into less of a sour expression as the door swung inward.

Alec entered and flipped on the light then stared at her with a lost expression.

There was a table with candles and a bottle of champagne chilling. Max was wearing what was surely his shirt while draping herself on the couch. However, her face went from a devious and inviting grin to embarrassment then quickly dissolved into anger.

Alec blinked as the door shut behind him. His mind cursed as he hoped like hell Logan wasn't in the bathroom putting on some of his clothing as well. He feared he had walked in on some stolen naughty time with the couple.

"Am I interrupting some hot and sweaty time for you?" Alec asked as he pointed back toward the door. "I can give you some time. What do you need? Five, maybe 10 minutes?"

Max growled as she leapt off the couch and charged at him. Alec again blinked as he tried to decipher what was going on.

"Alone?" she shouted. "You're… you're… alone? What the hell? Oh. This is… Damn it!"

Max raised her hand and hit him, square in the chest, as her embarrassment singed her insides. She was mortified to be found lounging in his clothing, as if she had been waiting for him, but she was also immeasurably pleased she did not need to interrupt his evening tryst. At least, she felt that relief until she looked at him carefully. As her eyes caught telltale lipstick marks on him, her anger again erupted. She raised her hand again.

"Whoa," Alec said, raising his hands in defense. "What? What's going on? What's the problem?"

"Me," she said. "I was foolish enough to think you might stay on task for once in your miserable life."

"Miserable?" he scoffed as he stepped a safe distance away then folded his arms and fixed her with an appraising look. "You know, before I get off topic, that's a good look for you."

"I'm going to kick your ass," Max growled.

"Right, back to my miserable life," Alec said quickly. "I just happen to disagree with that. My life is far from miserable, Max. Confusing for certain some days, but frankly, I enjoy it a great deal."

"Yeah, you and your bimbos," Max rolled her eyes. "Scoring with the hot secretaries is so… predictable for you. They make cheap movies about that stuff, Alec. Of course, you've probably seen them all."

"You make me blush with all these complimentary insights into my personality," he replied. "Want to know what I was doing?"

"Not if my life depended upon it," she sneered.

She folded her arms tightly and crossed her legs as she suddenly felt very exposed.

"I hacked into BioCorp's research files," he said. "Greta, my ready, willing and inebriated admirer for the evening let it slip they had DNA strands on file from one of the genetic super-humans that were roaming the sewers of Seattle."

"What?" Max gasped as all thoughts and worries about Alec's social escapades evaporated.

"Oh yes," he nodded. "Your heroes in lab coats bogarted your code and were going to do who knows what, maybe try to brew up a little mini Max."

"So Brezhenski…," she seethed.

"No, they stole Sveta's files," he said as looked and again admiring how she looked in his shirt. "Near as I could tell anyway. Don't worry. It's fine."

"Fine?" she shouted. "Fine? It's anything but fine, Alec! Do you know what this means?"

"No, Max, I'm an idiot and can't figure out what it means," he said flatly. "You need to calm down."

"No, we need a plan," she said vehemently. "We need to get rid of those files."

"Done," he smiled.

She looked back at him with a skeptical gaze.

"Yes, I said done," he replied. "Experienced covert operative, Max, remember? I used Lady Tequila's laptop to access the secure files at BioCorp and planted a virus in their system. Your files are gone. Now, this is the part where you say: _That's brilliant; thank you, Alec_."

She stared at him still feeling an intense anger toward him. His tie was untied and hanging loose around his neck. Several of the buttons on his shirt were undone and his hair was mussed. There was telltale red lipstick along his chin jaw line and neck. She took in his appearance and, though she was glad he defused the situation with the computer files and her DNA, anger and an intense jealousy still burned in her chest.

"Let me guess, you learned about all this after you got Lady Tequila into bed," Max seethed. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you got it taken care of, but your methods disgust me."

"I figured it was bad form to leave her on the floor of the elevator," Alec said then spied the burning in Max's eyes. He smiled upon seeing it. "You think I slept with her."

"No, I'm sure you left as soon as she fell asleep," Max scoffed.

She glared angrily at him. Alec continued to grin at her, his smile deepening as he saw her jealousy radiating from her like the heat from the flames in the fireplace.

"I bought her a few shots at the bar," he explained. "Then, when she was falling all over herself while trying to climb all over me, I dragged her—that's almost literal too because she passed out in the elevator—back to her room. The only thing I penetrated in the last hour was the BioCorp servers while she mumbled in her bed, alone, about wanting to ride a pony."

He tossed his tie and jacket onto the chair as he stared back at her for confirmation that she both understood and believed him. Her anger was encouraging, but he did not like the accusation in her eyes. He knew why it was there, but he had hoped that she was prepared to believe him now—especially when he was telling her the truth.

"There's more," he said as he started walking toward her despite the rage still burning in her eyes. "Whoever this guy is she works for, Cranston, he's working with someone. Those files were bundled for transfer. It doesn't look like they were sent yet, but…"

Max nodded. _Great_, she thought, _another shadow to chase_. She sighed and hung her head. This was the downside of the great cure, she realized. Whether Brezhenski was involved was unclear, that was another problem she would need to resolve as well. She looked up at Alec, still feeling stabs of irritation at seeing the smudges along his neck. The fact that it bothered her at all was vexing enough. That he had the audacity to look back at her as if he knew this only made it worse. She hardened her gaze at him which only made his slight smile grow more smug. The urge to strike him was almost overpowering.

"You couldn't have left her in the bar and gone to go hack the files on your own?" Max asked, the accusatory tone in her voice fading and listing toward the conciliatory. "You said she was sharing her room. Did you have your way with her roomie instead?"

"No," he shrugged as he slipped his hands out of his pockets and walked toward Max with a confident, loose-limbed grace. "Of course, the roommate wasn't there, but even if she was, that's not how I wanted to spend my evening."

"But you'd have obliged if the need arose," Max scowled with her words sounding unsure as sthe stepped backward as he drew nearer. "One of these days, you might want to learn that there's more to life than cheap, easy sex, Alec."

He offered her a smoldering gaze from his misty green eyes. He grinned playfully as he closed the gap between them then stood with just inches separating them.

"Oh, I already know," he said in a low tone. "There are thrills, and satisfaction, and best of all, passion."

He spoke the final word while looking directly and boldly into her eyes. He could hear her heart racing and watched the muscles in her neck and shoulders grew tense.

"Alec," Max said with a tight throat.

She cast her gaze to the side, unable to look back at him. She felt her temperature rise as she inhaled the tantalizing hint of his entrancing cologne. He shuffled closer. Max took a step backward and found the wall.

"Yes?" he inquired, tilting his head, trying to make her look at him. "What is it, Max?

He leaned in further and inhaled the soft scent of her hair.

"Alec," she said with uncertainty. "This is…"

"What you need," he said in a confident, yet quiet, husky tone. "What you want."

"No," she shook her head, still refusing to look at him. "Maybe it's just what you think I want…."

He lifted her chin so she would look at him rather than some undefined spot over his shoulder. He then reached behind her and slipped off the clip holding back her hair. It fell loosely over her shoulders. Max stood rigidly still and looked back at him with a flat, controlled expression.

"This how you treat the boss?" she asked, trying to be flip.

"You're not really my boss," he said simply. "And you are wearing my clothes."

"Fine," she agreed, swallowing hard as he slipped his thumb and forefinger between the buttons of her/his shirt to release them. "Alec, you shouldn't."

"If you really believe that," he said as he leaned in and spoke into her ear in a hushed voice, "then tell me to stop."

Max did nothing outwardly. Her urge was to tear the buttons off the shirt he was wearing (whether with her fingers or her teeth, whichever was quicker). She raised her hands and placed them on his chest to hold him back but did not offer any force to actually push him backward.

"This isn't how… friends act," she said weakly.

"I don't want to be friends," Alec said leaning in close, his lips a millimeter from hers as his nose brushed hers.

His hypnotic stare mesmerized her. She could feel her body quaking and feel the heat radiating off his body. Her heart was hammering loudly in her ears but not so loudly that should couldn't hear the nearly identical and intense rhythm of his.

"What do you want?" she asked quietly and hopefully.

He stepped forward, pressing her back to the wall and his body into hers.

"You," he whispered as his full lips met hers.

**# # # #**

Everything happened with the speed of a transgenic blur. Cross the room into the bedroom. Garments dropping and soaring through the air with lightning speed. The silk sheets were already turned down by the hotel staff. The immense bed swallowed them as they wrapped themselves around each other. Passionate nips, probing tongues and roaming hands. Max sunk her nails into his back and her teeth into his neck, tasting the salty taste of sweat.

Despite the impetuous start, the session was not over quickly. Max was familiar with the quick hit of a lusty romp. She knew about them from heat induced hook ups and even the way she became involved with two earlier boyfriends. This was very different.

It was certainly physical and energetic. Max kept her eyes closed and kept her mouth from meeting his. Yes, this was sex, but some part of it was not personal. This was an urge, like a hormone explosion except with total control on her part. She knew she was there out of choice not out of uncontrollable aspects of her nature. She didn't want to think about why she was making this choice. Her body and minded needed it, she knew, because her heart and mind wanted it. This did not surprise her. She had ached for him, the smell, the taste and the feel of him.

What did surprise her was how time seemed to bend. She expected it to be over not long after it began—and that would have been satisfying enough as it brought exhilarating ripples of excitement and waves of breath-snatching ecstasy. Just when she thought the climax arrived, a whole new chapter of stimulating tingles were born. Distantly, in a corner of her mind, she could not help but think there certainly was one worthwhile advantage to the differences between ordinary humans and an X5: stamina.

**# # # #**

Max felt the slippery touch of the silky pillow case beneath her cheek. Her eyes opened slowly to see the moon peeking from behind clouds just beyond the mountain. It cast soft shadows in the room. She blinked slowly as she woke more fully. The clock glowed at time of 12:05 a.m. She inhaled languidly and felt warm although the sheet covered only her lower body. It was the body beside her that was the source of the comforting heat.

Alec's arm was draped around her, reaching around her waist. She could feel the soft, warm rush of his breath on the back of her neck. She turned her head slowly and carefully to see him asleep, sharing her pillow, as they spooned.

_This was wrong_, she told herself but knew there was a sleepy grin on her face.

Her mind was saying the things it felt it should—the right and proper things, she knew. The trouble was she should be ashamed and worried, but her heart and her body didn't care. Yes, she had just betrayed Logan. She had cheated on him—with Alec no less. She had no excuse. She wasn't forced. She wasn't tricked. She wasn't drugged. She wasn't drunk. She wasn't even in heat.

She lived in the moment. Embraced it…. And let it do things to her she had never had done before.

_That_, she told herself, wiggling the sheet up a little higher, _was why acting that way was dangerous. It was addictive and irrational. _

She shook her head and sighed. Alec, perhaps sensing her agitation, stirred a bit. He continued to slumber, but he pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck. Max did not resist or move away. Instead, she nestled herself into him, feeling the feverish heat of his chest pressing into her back. She relaxed despite the seriousness of the circumstance. After all, she told herself, the worst of her sin was done; there was nothing more to be ashamed of and nothing to run from… Unless it was the overwhelming feeling that she enjoyed what she did. Not that she liked betraying Logan; it weighed heavily on her that she had. But that was not the same as regretting what she had done.

She didn't.

**# # # #**

Max awoke with a muddle of feelings to again glimpse the clock. Two hours had passed. She felt pleasantly warm; she was exhausted but felt relaxed and safe as she was being held. The last sensation registered and forced her eyes open wider.

She turned her head slowly and slightly to spy Alec, asleep beside her sharing her pillow. His arms were wrapped comfortably around her. Her stomach twisted with a frenzy of elated butterflies and a cold twinge of guilt. She was torn. She should leave, but part of her (the part apparently controlling her limbs) did not want to move. Instead, she turned gingerly in Alec's embrace to look at him sleeping.

He looked sweet, angelic almost. He appeared harmless asleep in the silvery light, which she knew was a lie. The more she thought about it, where she was concerned, Alec was probably the most dangerous creature on the planet. She gazed at him without fear but with a great deal of confusion. As if sensing her scrutiny, his eyes opened.

He blinked several times as a lazy grin appeared on his face.

"You're still here," Alec whispered in the dark with his sleepy and raspy voice as he gently brushed her hair behind her ear..

"So are you," Max replied as she shivered with his touch.

"It's my room," he said, propping up on his elbow to look at her more closely. "I was sure you'd have bailed as soon as you woke up."

"You thought or you hoped?" she asked rather than answer the inferred question of why she remained.

Despite her calm tone and the causal discussion, Max's mind was a whirl of confusion. Shouldn't this feel more awkward? Wasn't this the part where she should feel embarrassed or ashamed? Where was the overwhelming timidity? When was the feeling of euphoria going to suddenly dry up and her feelings of panic strike? And when was Alec going to make a comment to cheapen the beauty of their stolen evening together? She looked back at Alec feeling nervous but not fearful.

"I'm glad you didn't," he said easily, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"You are?" she asked cautiously. "I thought you were the love 'em and leave 'em type."

"Why would you leave something you love?" he asked, cocking his head to the side with confusion on his face.

Max felt her face grow hot and a jittery spasm in her stomach. She wasn't sure where the discussion was going, if anywhere, but she knew she was not prepared to continue with it.

"I shouldn't be here," she said in an agitated way. Her mind was telling her body to move but her muscles resisted.

"Yes, you should," Alec said looking deeply into her eyes.

"Alec, " she sighed and shook her head. "This was wrong. I was… This was a bad idea. We shouldn't have… I shouldn't have…"

"Shh," he shook his head and placed his finger calmly on her lips. "You're here. This is now. Worry later. Live in the moment, Maxie."

"We already did that," she said softly as he leaned closer to her.

"Refresh my memory," he whispered.

Alec then kissed her warmly, slowly and tenderly on the lips. Max wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close paying attention only, as he suggested, to the moment.

If their initial explorations of each other earlier in the evening had been primal and lusty, this foray was altogether different. This was not an animalistic romp; this was personal and delicate. There was no speed, no urgency. Every movement was slow and deliberate. Every caress and every kiss was tender and lingering. Max's heart still pounded as strongly and as loudly in her chest as ever before, but this was somehow different. She felt something swell in her that she never felt before, and she knew that it was something people spoke of often but rarely truly felt: passion.

She burned for him, her temperature skyrocketing with each sensual and slow kiss, with each tender and gentle stroke of his hand against her skin. Her body welcomed him and resonated with rapture. Every cell in her was flooded with bliss. As she melted into him, she felt as much as hear herself begin to purr.

**# # # #**

Max woke for a third time to a cold morning light filling the room. She lifted her head and saw that she was alone in the room. She shook the cobwebs from her mind as she listen again, thinking she heard someone call her name.

"Oh, Max," Alec called from the sitting room. "Did you hear me? Breakfast is here. You hungry?"

"Uh, no," she said, shaking fully awake in the bed. "Not really."

She looked around and sighed at the dreary morning light, gray and cold like the sky, filled the room. She pulled the sheet off the bed and padded to the windows to peak outside. The mountain was obscured by clouds and a dark mist. Tree tops were frosted with a dusting of snow. Max shivered and looked back at the room. Her clothing littered the floor, but Alec's was missing. She walked to the closet and saw it was empty. Only her things were in the bathroom. Alec, it seemed, was packed and ready to leave.

This saddened her and bothered her at the same time. She had hoped to wake first and be the one depart, taking control of the situation. She knew she should have gotten up when she woke for the second time. Like the first, it was still dark but a glance at the clock had shown it was nearer to dawn. She had been entwined with Alec, her head resting on his chest as he cradled her in his arms.

He was a somewhat fitful sleeper. It was that which stirred her from sleep. He would have stretches of stillness and peace, but then he would suddenly twitch and jerk slightly. She feared at first that he was having a seizure and hoped he had brought his own of tryptophan as hers was running low. She considered waking him to ask where his was when he suddenly relaxed and ceased moving. That's when she noted the frantic movement under his eyelids as the expression on his face that went from a lip curled in displeasure to a sly, slight grin then back to a relaxed pose.

_He's just dreaming_, she told herself as she relaxed and settled her head on his chest again. She hoped he would not murmur in his sleep. She was afraid to know what he dreamed about. She wasn't sure if she was more afraid to hear him whisper her name or someone else's. In the end, he did neither, and she drifted back to sleep.

Hours later, he was in the next room preparing to leave and she was looking at the tub thinking oddly of the moment when they first arrive. Then, she had felt certain when they left that her best memories of the trip would have occurred in while soaking in it, letting her mind drift to thoughts of Logan. She shook her head, and climbed quickly in the shower to finishing waking and clearing her head. When she arrived in the sitting room with her bag in hand, Alec was watching TV, oblivious to her presence. She threw together a plate of still warm eggs and several slices of fruit then ate alone at the table.

Max wolfed down her food and kept shooting glances at the back of Alec's head. He was mesmerized by the screen and did not seem to notice she was there at all until she cleared her throat loudly.

"Did you need something?" Alec asked, turning his head reluctantly.

"Yes, we need to talk," Max said tensely. "We're agreed that what happened was wrong, right?"

"Wrong but right?" he repeated.

"No, it was wrong," she said adamantly. "We're agreed on that."

"I haven't agreed to anything other than the suggestion we should do this again," Alec said as he smiled at her over his shoulder.

Max blinked, startled by the pronouncement. She shook her head vehemently.

"I didn't suggest that," Max countered.

"No, I just did," he replied. "I also note you didn't disagree when I said it just now. You only said it wasn't your suggestion, but you didn't say you disagreed with it. Kind of feels like agreement."

"No, it doesn't," she said quickly.

"Sure it does," Alec nodded. "I'm the kind of guy who is in touch with my feelings. Trust me, I'm feeling like it's a good idea and kind of like you agreed by not disagreeing."

"I didn't agree," she snapped.

"And you still haven't disagreed," he shrugged. "See, that, to me, feels like a solid maybe on its way to a hell yes."

"How about a shut the hell up," Max suggestion. "Let's agree that we…"

"I'm not going to broadcast it," he said. She winced at the word he used.

"I'm telling Logan," she said quickly. "As soon as we're back, I'm telling him everything. He may hate me, but I'm not going to keep it a secret."

"Good," Alec said with a firm nod. "It should make things easier having no secrets between us."

"Right," she said then paused. "Wait. Us? Who us? What us? What do you think is going to happen now?"

"I don't know," he shrugged and smiled. "We'll have to see."

"No," she shook her head. "Alec, this was a one-time… mistake. Augh. It was probably some reaction to those shots Brezhenski gave me."

"I don't think so," he said still grinning. "If it was, you'd have jumped me weeks ago when you were all hot and bothered after the doc put in you heat."

"You know about that?" she asked angry and appalled her personal and medical details were not private.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm a male X5, Max. I know when one of you is in heat. You think it's hard on you to go through that? Try being a guy who can sense it and knows he has to avoid you. It's painful, Max. Torture, in fact."

Max groaned and hung her head. She would like to have bashed his head in with something at that moment. The problem was, she feared if she attacked him, things might change from anger to something else and then they would end up rolling on the floor and…

"You're thinking about taking me up on that offer right now, aren't you?" he grinned and winked confidently at her.

She stalked out of the room and grabbed her bag. There was no reason to remain at the hotel any longer. Check out was not for another few hours, but leaving was all she had on her mind. There was no attack; Logan's source was wrong. The only danger they faced was the DNA time bomb Alec discovered and diffused the night before; however, Max felt like she had been through battle. Her stomach was knotted about confessing to Logan; she was dreading the two hour ride back to Seattle with Alec; and her mind kept flashing back to the previous night and morning.

Shaking thoughts of Alec from her head, Max returning to the sitting room as she pinned up her hair.

"I'm telling Logan as soon as I see him and begging him to forgive me," she announced.

"You don't think he will, do you?" he asked, more as a curiosity point about the man.

Alec didn't think he would forgive someone for cheating on him, but Logan wasn't him. Logan was probably the type who would forgive and take on some of the blame for the infidelity himself.

"I don't know," she said. "The point is that I'm telling him. So, let's just get one thing clear: Nothing has changed between us."

"You and Logan?" Alec shrugged. "That's really, maybe even overly optimistic, and kind of naïve considering you don't think he'll forgive you."

"No, not me and Logan," Max said sternly. "You and me."

Alec laughed dryly and shook his head as he grabbed his bag and walked toward the door.

"Everything has changed, Max," he said. "You know that. You even just said there is a 'you and me' now."

"No, I didn't," she fumed. "I mean, I did, but I didn't mean it like that. We're not… together, Alec."

"I know, but we could be," he said.

"Stop it," she growled. "I know you're only saying this to jerk me around for your own entertainment, so stop."

Alec shook his head as he held the door open for her. He offered her a solemn and genuine expression.

"I'm not messing around with you," he said then shrugged. "I mean, I am, but not solely for my entertainment. I meant what I said, Max. You have a choice, which means you have options to choose from: Me or Logan. You might say last night was a mistake, but I don't feel that way. Now, I get that you're all nuts about things right now, but once you take a minute and think about it, you're going to realize that you had a choice and you didn't refuse me. Max, you didn't say no. You know why, right?"

"Because… I don't know," she said. "I lost my head."

"You wanted me," he replied. "That's not me being arrogant, well, not much. It just also happens to be true. You wanted me. I want you."

"And it's done," she said.

"I'd have believed that if you'd left as soon as you woke up," Alec replied. "Only you didn't. You stayed for the whole night and this morning."

"Alec, don't make this into something more than it is," Max said defensively. "Whatever happened is over."

"Too soon to tell," Alec disagreed. "Look, I get it, Max. I do. You need to do your guilt thing. That's fine. Get it out of your system. I know that the first time was a lot of pent up frustration and curiosity."

"Yes," Max said then shook her head. "It was, and that's all it…"

"The second time, however, was…," Alec continued then shrugged and offered her naughty smile. "You know, I don't know what the second time meant, but you definitely made an informed choice. Now, if you want my opinion…"

"I don't," she said walking fast toward the elevator.

"You chose wisely," he called after her as he chuckled and followed her at his own pace.

**# # # #**

The first leg of the ride back to Seattle was quiet, mostly because Alec slept the whole way. Max drove the car arranged by Logan. Max kept cutting her eyes at him, wondering if he was actually sleeping, then not caring and just being glad he wasn't talking to her. She didn't know what to say to him, but she was glad when they reached the rendezvous point half an hour from the resort where they picked up Cactus and Zero. The rest of the drive was filled with the two of them briefing Max on how dull and pointless their assignment was. Again, Alec did not participate. He kept his head tipped back and his arms folded, sleeping or appearing to for the whole ride.

They arrived back at the edge of Seattle and dropped the car in a pre-arranged location. Whether it was Max's distraction due to the chatter from two of her passengers or her mind screaming at her, she was not overly aware of her surroundings. She never once noted the light blue minivan that followed her from the rendezvous point to the drop point for her car. The van slipped down a side street and seemed to disappear. No one in the group felt the spying eyes on them as they made their way into the abandoned subway conduit to return to TC.

Back at the complex, Max was greeted by a host of small matters that did not seriously need her attention. She supposed this was Mole's payback for leaving him home to babysit while she and her chosen few covered the conference. She took a passive-aggressive briefing from him then allowed him to crow about their technical failure for BioCorp. She shook her head and felt her temples begin to pound as he restated raked her over the coals about the crappy intel behind the outing. Max looked out into the main control area to see Alec talking to Bullet and Zero. She wondered (and worried) what he might be telling them; however, after a few moments Zero stood up and assumed a fighting pose while taking instruction Alec, leading Max to assume they were merely playing around. She turned her attention back to Mole's lecture while keeping a passive look on her face. When she looked up again several minutes later, Alec was gone.

The day slipped by and (although she expended a great deal of concentration and energy trying to avoid it), Max's mind kept slipping back to thoughts of Alec. She was still feel waves of anxiety over her discussion with Logan. She was going to find a way to slip out of TC that evening to do it when she received a message from OC reminding her she was to meet her in Sector 7 that evening for the traveling dance party, known as The Warp. Max received a second message, this one from Logan, stating he was joining her for her outing with OC that evening.

This was not what Max wanted. She needed to speak with Logan privately. Going out dancing was not part of that plan. However, she did not want to let down OC. She also was not looking forward to confessing to Logan. The only good part of the day, she decided, was that Alec was absent.

Reluctantly and feeling depressed enough to make her stomach ache with worry, Max made her way to the corner of Thomas and Dexter in Sector 7. Logan met her with a perfectly forged sector pass to allow them, he said with a hopeful smile, to return to his place when the evening was done so they could spend time alone before he departed the next morning for Portland. Max offered him a weak and guilty smile.

"Everything okay?" Logan asked as he looked toward the non-descript alley where OC said she would meet them.

"Not really," Max swallowed hard.

She sighed deeply, deciding to just charge forward with their talk. If it ruined OC's evening, she would find a way to make it up to her; Max was certain she would have plenty of personal time once Logan heard the truth.

"What is it?" Logan asked as they approached the dark and dank alley that allegedly led to the abandoned building that was ground zero for The Warp.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this so I'll just say it," Max said as she took a deep breath. "Something happened, something… unplanned, while I was at Crystal Mountain."

"What?" Logan asked.

Max opened her mouth to tell him when she turned down the alley and bumped into someone leaning on the leprous brick edifice. She looked and her eyes flew open wide as her heart began hammering.

"Alec," Max gasped as her mouth when dry with shock. "What are you doing here?"

She stepped back quickly, hoping her face was not turning as red as she feared. She looked quickly to Logan who wore a pinched but otherwise pleasant expression. He nodded at Alec.

"OC was told me to be here," Alec shrugged. "Something about guard duty. It's what we do now, right?"

He looked at Max with a sly smile that most would take as a slight taunt based on his comment. Max read it as something else, something that had nothing to do with his words. He looked at her with hunger and a challenge. He was there and she needed to deal with him. From the lack of reaction from Logan, he deduced quickly Max had not yet spoken with him about the events at the conference.

"The more the merrier," Logan said stiffly. "So long as there's no shop talk."

"Me, talk work?" Alec shook his head. "Never. Hey, I barely like to do work when I'm on a job."

"Right," Logan nodded. "As long as Max doesn't mind…"

"No," she shook her head and looked away, hoping they would get to the door quickly so they could get lost in the sizeable crowd. The noise levels and numbers of people inside would help prevent conversation, as those would be nothing but awkward at this point.

"See, I always knew Max couldn't get enough of me," Alec winked and gave her a rough, one-armed hug around her shoulders as Original Cindy approached.

She teetered on five-inch platform espadrilles that were held on her feet by thin, long laces that snaked half way up her legs. Her hair was teased high and wild. Her eyes were coated in a thick and shiny golden eye shadow that complimented her tawny skin to perfection. Max stared at her but OC realized her gawking was no due to her attire but rather her guest.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," OC said, seeing Max's wide-eyed stare, "I asked brother man Alec here to come with us. He said he would, which was good because otherwise, my date would have been Sketchy."

"Sketchy?" Logan asked. "Your date?"

"Nah, not like that," OC laughed as she looked around and scanned the rest of the line looking for her coworker's face then shrugged upon not seeing it. "Just to help a girl out. Sketch is supposed to meet us anyway, but I like my chances better with Alec."

"Hey, who doesn't?" Alec offered and smiled smugly.

OC shook her head and slapped him lightly on the cheek in reprimand.

"You ain't pretty enough to make me switch teams, sugar," she pointed at him.

"A guy can dream," Alec grinned. Max scoffed and glared at him then instantly regretted it as he aimed his next comment and wink at her. "A girl can, too."

"None of that," OC ordered as she stepped between them and hustled the group toward the door. "Tonight is happy, happy, joy, joy time. We getting loose, and we are dancing."

"You look a little tight, if you ask me," Logan said, noting the glassiness of OC's eyes.

"Oh, well, my evening stared earlier, elsewhere," OC said. "Now, I am not in need of a lecture."

She stumbled slightly on her elevated heels. Alec caught her elbow and kept her from toppling over.

"Yeah, Logan," Alec said. "No lectures. You're harshing her buzz."

"Ooo, sugar man," OC crowed and patted Alec on the back. "Original Cindy gonna steal that one."

"Have at," Alec nodded.

"Okay, now Logan, stick close to Max so she don't have to go all superhero on some fool with wandering hands," OC said as she led them toward the door. "It gets hot and tight in here so watch yourselves. Now, Alec is gonna be my bodyguard at this soiree. Like I said, some of the mens in here can get a little gropey, and Original Cindy just did her nails. You keep the slack-jawed locals from spilling their beer and bodily fluids on me, got that?"

"Affirmative," Alec agreed then threw OC over his shoulder to carry her into the club.

OC squealed her approval.

"I think I'm gonna call you Rickshaw for the night," she crowed. "Hey, and if I get enough of my drink on, I may just be shortening it to Rick before the end of this. See, but that's okay. See, Rick rhythms with Alec so you see wehre I'm going."

"Not a clue," Alec shook his head. "Here's the deal: You can call me whatever you like as long as there aren't any numbers in it."

"You gots it Ricky baby," OC laughed. "You just watch where you puts them hands."

"Well, sounds like they're going to have fun," Logan shrugged and gestured to the door for Max. "When in Rome…"

Max nodded as she watched them duck through the door. She felt a pang of resentment toward her friend. She wasn't sure if it was for inviting Alec or that she was the one who was getting his attention. She shook the insane thought out of her head and looked at Logan with a smile. He rolled his eyes at their two departed colleagues and held out his hand to usher Max inside in a more respectful and gentlemanly fashion.

The building was dark and crowded. Lights strobbed and music pounded. The room was hot and pulsing. Even though Alec and OC entered just moments before Max and Logan, it took them nearly 30 minutes to meet up with each other again. OC had snagged a small table not far from the dance floor and was waving her arms in the air to get their attention. Logan and Max arrived and noted Alec's absence. OC explained she sent him to the bar when they first arrived and had now spotted him returning. She waved her hand toward the crowd. As if on cue, Alec arrived at the table.

"Your libations," he said, putting a tall glass filled with a very pink and mildly fizzy drink on the table in front of OC.

"What is that?" Logan asked.

"Signature poison for a Warp," OC nodded and sipped it slowly.

Her eyes flew open wide and she patted her chest for several moments as she nodded appreciatively. She bowed her head and appeared to be offering a momentary prayer of thanks.

"That is heaven in a glass," OC said, sipping it further.

"Again," Logan asked. "What is it?"

"It's called a Pink Beach Lulu," Alec shrugged. "Guy at the bar said once you have it you can't get enough of it."

"Did you try it?" Logan asked, looking at the glass skeptically as OC slurped on the straw with an obscene level of pleasure.

"If I'm putting something in my mouth that's pink and named Lulu, I'm looking for a…," he didn't finish the sentence as Max stomped on his foot under the table.

He winced quickly but cut his eyes at her and smirked. No one else at the table noticed.

"You want one?" Logan asked Max as he looked with interest at OC's smile.

"No thanks," Max said looking across the room at the bar. "It'll take an hour to even get close to the bar. It's like 10 people deep over there."

"It's no trouble," Logan said eagerly getting up and moving into the swollen river of people passing by the table. "I could use a beer anyway. Alec?"

"Sure, if you're buying," he nodded. "Shout your order quick when you catch the guy's eye. He doesn't wait for you to make up your mind."

Logan nodded his thanks as OC smacked her lips than raised her hands in the air victoriously. She hooted her continuing approval as she danced in her seat.

"Sugar, we gotta groove," she announced loudly as she climbed over the top of the table, nearly falling in her platform wedges. She gripped Max's shoulder and gestured to the dance floor.

Max looked across the table to see Alec looking at her with a penetrating stare. His thoughts were obvious and made her mouth go dry. She looked around quickly, glad Logan was now far away, lost in the crowd. Alec continued to gaze at her with palpable hunger and desire. Max felt butterflies in her stomach and as guilt swelled up in her gut. She grabbed hold of OC's hand and let her pull her toward the crowded dance floor. However, they were not more than two steps from the table when OC threw her arm back and grabbed onto Alec's shoulder.

"Brother man, you comin' too," OC announced as she tugged him along. "I know this DJ. He gonna play a song just for OC. Come on and feel the love!"

They edged and squeezed along the crowded dance floor to a spot not far from their table but it may have been a mile for restricted movement they had in the space. OC twirled then bumped and grinded her way into a pocket of several statuesque women to their left. Max was left with Alec and unable to move away from him. She felt his fingers lace between hers, clasping her hand. She did nothing for a moment, then her guilt got the better of her. She shook her hand free and watched OC, who was now climbing atop the shoulders of one of the tall women. She waved her hands in the air and shouted something that got swallowed by the noise of the room as the song ended. She then climbed down and received a rub and a hug from her former pedestal as the DJ began speaking to the crowd.

"Now, my little grooving darlings, I have a special request," the DJ said in a sultry voice. "This one is going out to the lovely goddess with the golden eyes. She's asked me to drop a little lovin' funk on the floor. So, let's take it back a notch and slow things down just a bit. It's time for some funky soul from the way back Warp machine. Here she is, and may she rest in eternal peace, from the 1999 Grammy Winner, the lovely Lauryn Hill: Too Good to Be True."

The floor was instantly flooded with even more bodies bobbing and bumping into each other to the rhythmic pulses of the mellow yet upbeat dance tune. Max turned around, intent upon leaving the floor to go back to their table and wait for Logan. Instead, she found herself cemented in place as the crowed space grew more constricted with more people joining the swaying mass on the floor. She turned, trying to escape only to find herself pressed against Alec. Max felt her heart hammering against her sternum and her palms begin to sweat as she looked into his powerful and intoxicating stare. Her body rippled with the memory of sharing her most intimate spaces with him as the lyrics poured over the crowd and swam in Max's ears, as if crooning just to her:

_You're just too good to be true__  
__can't take my eyes off of you__  
__you'd be like heaven to touch__  
__I wanna hold you so much__  
__at long last love has arrived__  
__and I thank God I'm alive__  
__you're just too good to be true__  
__can't take my eyes off of you__  
_

She was acutely aware of his scent as she looked back at him under the slowly strobing lights. In her mind, she knew she should edge away, thrust an elbow in any direction and sidle into another pocket of the crowd, but all she could do was look at him looking at her. Her flesh was certainly strong enough to bolt, but it succumbed to the urge to stay right where she was and steep in the steamy moment was stronger. She tried to pull her eyes away, but his bright irises focused on her, bewitching her to stay.

_Pardon the way that I stare__  
__there's nothing else to compare__  
__the sight of you leaves me weak__  
__there are no words left to speak__  
__but if you feel like I feel__  
__please let me know that it's real__  
__you're just too good to be true__  
__can't take my eyes off of you…_

She looked hypnotically into his eyes and knew she was smiling all the while she was fighting that urge. She felt dizzy and, despite the stifling humidity of the room, she sensed goose bumps erupting on her skin. After a moment, she shook her head to clear it.

"We should go," she shouted to him then shook her head. "I mean, I should go."

Alec shook his head. She said it again, more adamantly, but he signaled that he couldn't hear her over the music. He pulled her closer, perhaps to hear her or perhaps not; she didn't know. Rather than wonder, she merely repeated her words, but before she was finished, she was quickly spun around as a large and sweaty man to her left grabbed her and pulled her into his space in a rough invite to dance. She was prepared to thrust her fingers into the stranger's carotid artery, rending the octopus unconscious, but was relieved of that burden as Alec stepped between them and barked some comment that made the man blanch and step back. She was then pulled back to Alec in a hold that she suspected was an effort to keep her from making a scene on the floor by nearly killing the oaf who wanted to rub himself on her. She looked at Alec for confirmation and received a smiling gaze that could be interpreted many ways as they were pushed along the sea of people into a dancing position at the mercy of the swollen crowd.

"Just go with it," she heard him shout in her ear as they were buffeted along, being pressed closer together and into each other by those around them.

It was unclear what was her personal space and what was his. She cut her eyes at him, certain he was enjoying the circumstance. She didn't know if this angered her or not. She thought it should, but there was something exhilarating about it and the possibilities from it. She found herself hoping that he couldn't feel the pounding of her heart or feel the dampness of her hands. She noted his hands, which were wrapped around her (and not in a purely platonic way), did not feel moist at all. The heat radiating from him was intense and reminded her of the sensation of his bare skin against hers and his…

"You okay?" he shouted as they swayed to the throbbing beat of the song. "You look… I don't know… off."

"I'm fine," she said with a dry throat, wanting the song to end abruptly but also hoping it would not.

In her mind, several very different scenarios were flashing at lightning speed. One in which Logan appeared and wedged himself between them, throwing a threatening look at Alec but having the good sense and graces not to actually let the words leave his mouth. In another, the power went out and everyone just left the club into the cool night air so that this moment perished due to one of the frequent brown outs Seattle experienced fairly often. The last, and the one that lingered in her mind, also had the power going out, plunging them into darkness allowing her to pull his smug, smiling face to hers so she could again taste his full lips and beautiful teeth in her watering mouth.

At that thought and where else it might lead, the fluttering in her chest and the shivers in her stomach returned. She could feel sweat beading on her chest and racing down her back.

_Oh please do not let him notice that I am sweating_, she thought as the sounds of the song began to wane. She wasn't sure what worried her more: Alec noticing the reaction she was having to the temperature or the thought he would simply notice she was sweating profusely.

"Logan is… somewhere," Max said.

Alec looked down at her with confusion. Max gestured to him to lean down so he could hear her better. As he did, she reached her arms mechanically around Alec's neck so she could pull him closer as she repeated herself. Alec smiled and shook his head.

"So?" he replied, speaking into her ear and kissing her neck before she pulled away.

"No," Max said. "You can't… Please stop that."

"I can feel your heart beating," he said. "You liked it."

"You don't know that," she disagreed.

"You didn't hit me," he said with a grin as he again placed his lips on her neck and lingered there for a moment. "And you smiled."

"Never mind that," she said, leaning away from him. "We are not doing this."

"Seems like we are," he smiled. He fixed her with a blazing look. "Don't go home with him, Max. Go with me."

"Alec, Logan and I are…," she shook her head. "You and I are not…"

"Come with me instead," he said, his lips brushing against her cheek as his hands roamed over her. "Max, tell Logan what happened; tell him it's over then meet me at…"

"That's not going to happen," she said, trying to step away from him but the press of the crowd kept her in place. "Alec, this isn't some game or competition."

"I'm not playing," he said firmly. "Stay with me tonight, Max. Leave here with me right now."

Max shook her head but he could see she was torn. She felt guilty (a typical experience for Max) but she also felt regret. What that regret was rooted in, he did not know. However, he felt hopeful at seeing it.

"I want you," he said, pulling her closer. "I want to be with you, and I don't want you to be with him."

"Don't make this more difficult, Alec," she pleaded.

He stroked her hair off her shoulder and caressed the back of her neck as he looked at her longingly.

"I'm going back to TC," he said. "I want you to come with me. Take Logan home if you're worried about him, but don't spend the night. Max, he can't make you feel the way I can. You know that."

He embraced her tightly and kissed her deeply for a moment. She trembled in his arms, but she kissed him back fearfully yet excitedly for several moments. As she did, her mind was screaming at her to break the embrace and run as fast and as far as she could from him. Their lips parted and she again saw the invitation on his face. She shook her head halfheartedly as a sorrowful look filled her eyes.

"I can't," she said with finality. "I won't be going to your room."

"Fine," he said, stealing another deep, powerful kiss before stepping back from her as the crowd constriction suddenly eased. "I'll be waiting for you in yours. Hurry back."

Max pulled away from him and edged and elbowed her way back to the general area of their table. Others were now occupying it, but it was close enough in the vicinity so that when Logan returned he was able to spot them. Over the din the music and crowd, he said he gave up trying to get near the bar. The look on his face told of his dislike of the atmosphere. Max felt certain that he was going to suggest they leave. The stress of the moment, standing between Logan and Alec, crashed over Max. She didn't know what to do until OC came rushing at them. She spoke in a blur that no one heard, but Max read her lips: Sector Cops.

Forgetting her anxiety over Logan and Alec, Max barked and order and threw in a quick hand signal that they understood: It was time to leave. Taking the hint, the quartette rapidly snaked their way across the room and toward a rear exit. They pushed the door of the over-heated box open to the damp and frigid evening air. The sound of sirens filled the air but from the muffled sound of them, the police were on the front side of the building.

"Double time," Max said and urged them to hurry back toward the main crossing street.

Logan obeyed her command as did Alec, but he stopped as he heard OC swear and stumble. He turned to see her sprawling on the ground after the slender laces holding on one of her platform shoes snapped, sending the sole flapping uselessly under her foot. He picked her up off the pavement and helped her scamper down the back alley and into the better lit street. Cars passed at a predictable pace there as all the excitement appeared to be on the opposite side of the block.

"Guess someone didn't pay their don't bother me tax," OC shook her head. "Max, I'm sorry. They never bust one of these."

"Just my luck," Max said as they began to walk purposefully further from the block.

"I think we're clear," Logan offered, stealing a glance over his shoulder. "Besides, I have sector passes for me and Max. Uh, OC do you…?"

"I got mine," OC said, tripping as she began fishing into her purse for hers. "Sorry, Alec. I only got mine. I don't need it—I live in Sector 7. Maybe you could…"

"Nah, don't worry," Alec said, steadying her as she hobbled on her uneven shoes. "I can get myself home."

"You sure?" OC asked.

"Yeah," he nodded and threw a bold look briefly at Max. "Trust me. When I want to be some place, sector police aren't going to stop me.'

"Where you wanna be?" OC asked.

"Right now?" he asked. "In bed."

Max scoffed and smothered a smirk by faking a cough. Logan instinctively patted her on the back, but OC offered her a questioning look. She then turned her gaze on Alec who shrugged nonchalantly.

"We should keep moving," Max said, recovering from her spell.

OC trailed behind has her damaged shoe made walking more difficult. Finally, she stopped altogether and waved her hands in the air admitting defeat.

"How's a sister supposed to stumble home if she's trippin' while she's trippin'?" OC pouted as she looked at her ruined espadrille. "That's it. Someone got to chariot me."

Alec looked at Logan then down at his exoskeleton. That, coupled with his fingers woven tightly, almost defiantly with Max's, gave Alec his answer. He sighed and shook his head then turned his attention back to the wobbly and vocal bike messenger.

"Hop on, OC," he said, dragging her arms over his shoulders to carry her piggy-back style. "I got ya."

"You know, brother man," OC proclaimed as she rested her head against his, "this is seriously upping your value in OC's world. You were doin' fairly well lately, too. Like, when I met you, you were like a three… Maybe a two sometimes when you'd get Max all spun up, but now… You're like a six; you be an eight if you get me home without dropping me."

"From two to eight in 18 months," Alec grinned. "That's a 400 percent increase. Wow. I'm impressive."

"Yeah, you is, sometimes," OC agreed.

"Can I get that in writing?" he asked and smiled at Logan and Max, although Max felt his gaze might have lingered on her a moment longer. "I know a short cut to your place."

"Good, because OC is getting cold," she replied. "It's a good thing you is warm, Alec."

She shivered slightly as she huddled closer to him as he carried her on his back.

"Just warm?" he remarked. "Some women think I'm hot."

"Well, Original Cindy is not one of them," she scoffed. "You gonna be lonely tonight."

"I don't know," Alec grinned. "Even after I drop you off, the night is young, so I remain hopeful."

Max looked down at the ground, feeling her face grow hot. She wasn't sure if it was due to embarrassment, guilt or excitement. She took a slow, controlled breath and hoped Logan did not notice.

"I like your enthusiasm," OC said, patting him roughly on the head. "See, this is good. You in a better head space than the last time we talked. Time for you and me to have some personal time again. I gotta finish explaining about life to you anyway. Where'd we leave off?"

"You were about to describe for me, in detail, all your dark and erotic secrets," Alec proclaimed as he began to cart her away. A second later he loosed a chortling and choking sound. "Ouch. OC, let go. You're strangling me. Don't make me drop your drunk ass on the curb."

Max watched them walk away with a pang of regret. She could hear Alec cough with relief as OC apparently released her punitive hold. She next heard Alec laugh at something OC must have said in response to what she was willing to tell him on their journey back to her apartment. The sound caused a new flurry of fluttering in her stomach and made her throat tighten with a pang of regret.

"Maybe we should follow them," Max said. "To make sure they get to her place."

"Alec can handle Original Cindy," Logan assured her, pulling her closer. "He's a big boy and can carry her. All that's going to happen is that she's going to talk his ear off the whole way, which is good for him. He should learn what it's like to be on the other side of incessant talking—I've heard you say that more than once."

"Right," she said, her stomach twisting with guilt as Logan led her in the opposite direction. "I just…"

"Max," Logan said, "she's fine. She's a little drunk. That's all. I don't think you have to worry about her doing anything stupid with Alec. He's not her type, remember? I mean, he only thinks every woman on the planet is in love with him. That doesn't make it true."

"Yeah," she said stiffly as she looked over her shoulder one last time, but they were gone from her field of vision. "It's just… The streets aren't exactly safe and those sector passes are forged. It's two miles back to OC's place. Anything could happen and…"

"And Alec can handle it," he said. "Max, I know what this is."

"You do?" she looked at him with worried eyes.

"Yeah, I do," he nodded. "The BioCorp job."

Max looked at him with wide and surprised eyes. If he knew, he was behaving much more accepting than she thought possible or wise. There was no one anyone could get over what she had done without even a hint of anger or betrayal. She, herself, was feeling loads of it amid all her other confused and overwhelming emotions.

"You got all keyed up expecting something bad to happen," Logan continued. "Then it didn't and you didn't have anywhere or anytime to vent all that energy so you're strangling yourself with worry. Don't worry. I have the cure. We go back to my place and open my last bottle of Château Mont-Redon, a pre-Pulse 2005 vintage, and spend some quiet time, just you and me, before I leave in the morning."

Max sighed then nodded.

"I should probably tell you about what happened in at the resort," she said in a controlled fashion. "No, I mean, I need to tell you about what happened."

"Okay," he shrugged. "Tell away, but how much can there be to say? It was a bust, right?"

"Not exactly," she replied. "I mean, yes, it was a bust for bad guys, but things were… Alec…"

"Is this about you two having to pretend you were getting married?" Logan asked. "I know all about that. Cactus told me. I don't know how that got screwed up in your cover story. It must have been when Alec changed his reservation. I heard you got stuck on a couch."

"You did?" Max nodded.

"Yeah, I'm just glad you two manage to do it," Logan said.

"You are?" she looked at him with very wide eyes.

"Well, yeah, if you hadn't been able to pull it off, you wouldn't have had anywhere to stay," he noted. "You survived your up close and personal time with Alec—and so did he. So no harm, right?"

"Well," Max began. "Things got… weird… awkward, I mean. That is we…"

"You had to share a room with him," Logan said and pet he arm lightly. "It's okay, Max. I'm not jealous. I don't hold it against you. You did what you had to do. Now, forget about Crystal Mountain and Alec. This is our time. You're coming home with me, aren't you?"

**# # # #**

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**A/N:** More to come. Chapter 9 is about 2 weeks away (give or take a few days).


	9. Chapter 9

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 9)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Because I adore you readers so much, I couldn't leave you hanging following the spectacular reviews I got for Chapter 8. First, a few housekeeping issues: A few readers have asked if my novel is on iBooks. A few technical issues are holding that up. No date for correct is known just yet. You can always get the free Kindle or Nook App on your iPad and get the ebook from or . I wish you happy reading and offer you my most heartfelt thanks for reading my other fiction. Now, back to 'The Mission'… It turns out Chapter 9 was nearly done (my mistake for naming the files incorrectly). It's Chapter 10 I hadn't started yet. That's the one that will take a while to finish. I beg your patience.

* * *

**# # # #**

The water poured down, icy and relentless, mingling with and then obliterating the hot tears racing down Max's face.

She stood in the cascade of the chilly torrent, bracing her arms against the shower wall, to keep herself standing. Silent sobs wracked her body as she took quick gasps of air, feeling like she was drowning.

She hated herself, despised every bone, every muscle, every nerve, every cell in her body. No amount of water, not a colossal flood, could wash away her insufferable, loathsome feelings. She shivered in the cold downpour, forcing herself to withstand the pain it brought after 20 minutes of nearly drenching herself.

Logan slept soundly in the room down the hall. He wasn't troubled by their exertions that evening. Max knew he suspected something was wrong that evening, but the earnest and genuine look in his eyes tore her heart in two and kept her from telling him what she knew she must. She wanted to tell him the truth about what happened at Crystal Mountain; she owed it to him, but she hadn't done it. Her guilt made her weak. She went home with Logan and let the evening take its course.

Not surprisingly, there was no elated moment, no exalted and orgasmic rapture while in his bed that made her remember the feeling of longing that she once felt for him. Her first time with Logan had lacked excitement and passion; this second time was all that and less because of her shredded will. Her intimate moments with Logan were banal and ordinary; they had never lived up to even an ounce of what she had anticipated. Initially, she blamed that on the obnoxious build up following two years of waiting and frustrations. Slightly more introspection made her understand it was the hype as well as a change in her, one she had not fully understood until the obstacle of the virus was removed, that tainted her dreams and turned them stale. Now, this night with him, she felt ashamed and vile. She let herself be used rather than confess her betrayal and hurt Logan.

She also felt badly for Alec. She owed him nothing; their time together was a stolen moment and one that should not have happened. He should not have realistically expected her to rush back to him, but she was certain he had gone back to TC and, as he asserted, gone to her room. She shook all images of him sitting in her room anticipating her return from her mind. How long he would have waited before shrugging off his night as one lost to a futile wait she did not know. She had a painful image in her head of him sitting up on her bed having fallen asleep while he waited in futility for her.

She shook her saturated locks and ran her hands through them again as she held in another miserable and dejected sob. No matter how hard she tried not to, Max kept thinking about the look on Alec's face in the club. He was intent and eager. He absolutely believed she would go to him. She let everyone down this time: Logan, by lying a letting him touch her when she no longer felt worthy of or interested in intimacy with him; Alec who appeared to be on the cusp of falling rather than considering her as simply a conquest to pass the time; and mostly herself for destroying her dignity out of fear of losing someone she did not know if she wanted any longer for another man she wasn't sure she whether wanted or simply lusted for at the moment.

Max hung her head, letting the cold deluge run down her back as she heard a far off rumbling. She paid it no attention, although some far, dark corner of her mind thought it strange there would be thunder so early in the year, especially when it was not warm or even raining—at least it wasn't when she climbed out of bed and slunk to the shower in an attempt to purge and cleanse the terrible, poisonous feeling clinging to her skin. Not that she supposed the shower could do it. The problem was in her heart and her mind.

She never told Logan what happened at the mountain resort. He kept cutting her off, giving her easy opportunities to let the conversation drift in another direction: his upcoming trip to Portland, his latest leads on White, what his contacts were saying the Federal Government were thinking with regard to the Manticore escapees. It was simpler and less painful to let him direct the conversation. Max was sure he had no idea what happened between she and Alec, but she wondered if some part of him sensed things had changed between she and Logan. Their parting after their first night together had been stilted. She told him at the time that her head was on the BioCorp conference. He accepted that and told her how much he enjoyed their night together. She believed is words, but she could see concern in his eyes.

Now, he was intent upon showing he what their life could be like now that they could touch without needing to plan his funeral. He was behaving as though there were no concerns and everything would pick up exactly where they hoped it might when she escaped her re-indoctrination at Manticore. Even before going to Crystal Mountain, Max knew Logan's hopes and dreams were outdated. She did not know if their relationship had reached a plateau, a turning point or had become stale. She feared any of those answers.

Now, armed with irrefutable evidence that she was not some perfect dream of his and that the happily-ever-after train had jumped the tracks, she had frozen when she needed to needed to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him—if only out of respect, but she baulked out of fear and shame. It wasn't so much that she regretted sleeping with Alec; her thoughts and feelings on that were too muddled to judge just yet. She regretted that she had not told him instantly and she was ashamed of herself for it. She normally faced up to her problems better than this. Of course, she reasoned (giving herself a moment's reprieve), intimate relationships were not something she had a great deal of experience with.

Sex was sex. It happened. Sometimes it was good. Sometimes it was bad. Sometimes you regretted it afterward. Sex and a relationship did not have to co-exist. In fact, she found, in her experience, when they did co-exist in her world, the relationship was never one of deep caring or sharing. Logan was the first man she slept with who knew precisely who and what she was. Her previous boyfriends had no clue. They knew the surface Max, the mask and story she told the world in order to hide. Logan was different. She always felt closer to Logan because she knew he was the only one who knew all about her and all she'd been through.

Except, she now realized, that wasn't accurate any longer. Alec knew all about her as well.

In fact, Alec knew her world more intimately than Logan because he had lived it himself. He was what she was. It was nothing special for him to accept all that her barcode meant because he was branded with one, too. He didn't need to understand her feelings and her fears because he shared them.

The fact that Logan was different, completely human, but did accept her was one of his attractions . It made him special to her, because, in many ways, he was her first: The first man to love the real her; the first man to know about her and still share himself with her fully. For that, he would always be precious to her. For that reason, she desperately did not want to hurt him.

Hurting Logan meant risking losing him, not just as a lover but as a friend. Also, admitting to him what she had done meant having to deal with what her choice to sleep with Alec might mean. She wasn't ready to pull that decision apart, dissect it, and make sense of it. Max didn't like lying to Logan, and she didn't want to actually be with him that night, but she let it happen all the same. It was a mechanical exercise; her body was there. Her heart and her mind were elsewhere, hiding and confused. She considered it similar to when she had been in heat in the past, except there was no compulsion here. This was just her being weak and giving up rather than facing a painful reality. She and Logan had waited so long for the chance to be together, and she had thrown it away with barely a thought. What that said about her made her feel wretched. What made Max feel worse was that this twisted little drama wasn't now reserved to just her betraying the man she believed she loved. She now also felt she owed Alec an explanation, too.

Crying was not something Max did often in her life. She never let anything or anyone get that close. Closeness, connections, those made you vulnerable and she could never afford to invite that weakness. She never intended for Logan to be anything more than one of her targets for a quick burglary job. She was going to steal a valuable statuette from him, fence it, and buy herself a few more weeks of rent, food, heat and whatever else survival required. Then, she actually met him and spoke with him. He was intrigued by her as a person—not as a creature cooked up in a lab. Logan looked and treated her like a human. That was a first for anyone who knew what she truly was.

Things evolved and progressed far beyond what she ever thought, expected or hoped. Now, with the cure for the Manticore virus in place, she should have felt fortunate.

What she felt was plagued by heartache, and only a small part of that blame could be assigned to Alec.

She certainly never expected or wanted any relationship with Alec. She never wanted to know him; she didn't want to work with him; she didn't want a friendship with him; and she certainly never wanted to be attracted to him, but somehow he seeped into her world. Like the impressive and relentless power of water, he slipped past her barriers and blockages and had begun to fill a place in her heart so empty and parched that there was no way to resist him.

So she stood in the shower, numbing her body in the hopes of doing the same to her weeping heart and suffering mind, as if the surge of water could purify her. She knew the effort would fail, but she could not think of anything else to do. She did not want to return to Logan's room. She also didn't want return to TC that night; she didn't want to face Alec. She also didn't want to roam the streets (or sewers, although that was where she felt she belonged) and chance encountering Sector Police.

"Max?" Logan's voice sounded loudly from the other side of the door as he knocked. "Are you okay?"

Truthfully, the answer was a solid no. She was a lot of things. Okay was simply not one of them. She took a steadying breath and turned off the water.

"Sure," she lied, feeling her body shudder from the cold and her teeth chattering from it as well.

"Something's happened," he said in an unsteady tone. "We need to talk."

_Great,_ she thought. _He's figured it out. Or he at least knows something is wrong and wants to talk. _

"Give me a minute," she said moving in a jerking fashion as her muscles contracted and locked with the intense shaking.

"Uh, I don't want to alarm you, but you should hurry," Logan said.

His voice was strained. He sounded worried and scared. Max instantly forgot all her internal sorrow and self-loathing. Something was wrong, something big enough to have gotten Logan up out of his post-coital coma. She quickly toweled off and slipped back into the pile of clothes she collected from Logan's bedroom floor and had flung on the bathroom floor before getting into the show to try drowning herself standing up.

With her hair still dripping and her clothes sticking to her damn skin a bit, she went down the stairs to the room where Logan's computers were set up. He was standing at the windows rather than looking at the screens. Max walked up to him and stared at the sky as well. It was a odd, muddy orange shade to the west. This was doubly odd because it was in the wrong location for a sunrise and it was hours after the sun had already set.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Logan turned quickly and grabbed her arms. He sat her in his chair and fixed her with an intense stare.

"We both know you can throw me across this room as if I didn't weigh any more than a shoe," he said. "Please take my attempt to make you stay seated as merely an effort to show concern rather than an attempt to keep you from bolting out of here. I know you'll want to do that in a moment, but I am begging you, Max, please do not. Promise me you will not leave."

"Logan?" she asked, feeling alert and on edge. Her pulse began to quicker.

"Promise me, Max," he said firmly.

She nodded warily in agreement as he stood back and looked toward the window.

"That's obviously not a sunrise," he said.

"I got that," she said then looked over her shoulder then back at Logan then gasped. "Terminal City."

She stood, shoving Logan back without any effort, but she felt his hand grasp her arm. She stopped herself from running to the door. Her heart hammered mercilessly against her ribs and every muscle in her body was taunt and ready to spring into attack mode, but she stopped in place. It took more self-control than she suspected she possessed any longer (especially given recent events), but she did it. She turned, with her eyes wide and worried, to look at Logan, who wore a beseeching expression.

"About 15 minutes ago, I woke up to what I thought was thunder," he explained. "I noticed you were gone so I got up. I heard the shower so I looked out the window to watch the storm while I waited for you. That's when it hit me that despite the thunder there was no rain and no clouds in the sky. I looked toward the glow outside and I saw… what you see. I've tapped into the police cams trained on Terminal City and the emergency band on the radio."

"What did you find?" she asked, knowing half the answer already. A massive explosion took place. The cause of it and the extent of the damage were the remaining questions.

"At approximately 2:26 a.m. an explosion occurred inside the fenced perimeter of Terminal City," Logan said, gently but firmly guiding her back to his chair. "Police on the scanner don't seem to know the cause; however, it… it sounds like a small warhead went off from the early reports."

Max's urge was yet again to flee the house and get back to what passed for her home. She needed to see what had happened, what might still be happening, and see who needed help. Logan's intense gaze and imploring expression where all that was keeping her in place.

"There are some early reports, and none of this is confirm, that prior to the explosion, there may have been gunfire in the complex," he continued. "I'm doing everything I can to get all the information that is out there. Right now, the police don't seem to have much. If this wasn't something they started…"

"You think we did?" Max snapped.

"No," Logan shook his head. "I mean that if the police did not start it, and that's an 'if', then someone else did. There are more than a couple other options, Max. You guys are armed in there, but you've shown a lot of restraint. I can't see any of your people breaking the truce without some pretty significant provocation."

Max nodded, accepting the assessment. Mole was the one in charge that night. He might be irascible, but he was not tactically stupid. He wouldn't launch an attack within the complex. Terminal City was their fallback position; it was not a strategic stronghold from which to launch an incursion into a city they were trying to keep their distance from as it was. Besides, Max reasoned, few of the TC residents would join him even if he did want to take on such a suicide mission. Plus, neither Alec nor Joshua would never have let him try it.

Thoughts of the transhuman and her fellow X-5 brought icy stabs of worry and the beginning stages of panic into her stomach.

"Alec," Max said suddenly.

Logan turned instinctively to look over his shoulder, expecting to see him standing in the living room, having entered without making a noise or announcing himself. However, the room behind Logan was empty.

"Where?" Logan asked mystified and mildly glad not to see him.

"No, his phone," Max said searching Logan's desk for his cell phone. "He can tell us what's happening."

She found it and dialed furiously. She swore loudly and desperately as it went directly to voicemail. She slammed the cell back on the desk and looked to Logan with a frantic expression. She could not remain sitting safely in his house when her people were under attack. Reading her thoughts, Logan shook his head.

"The military has moved in now, Max," he said firmly. "We don't know what's happened inside the complex, but I'd be willing to bet they are going to shoot first, shoot second and shoot a third time for good measure before asking a single question. You go there now and you may as will beg them to kill you because that is what they will do. For all we know, the army is the one who hit the complex. We need more information."

"I can't just sit here," she said agitatedly.

"Then… pace," he said nudging her out of the way as he began typing frantically. "Max, leaving now is suicide. Let me see what I can learn. You know there is nothing you can do unless you know what you'd be walking into. Let's figure this out before you go charging in there."

Max hesitated but then nodded. It was the smart and strategic thing to do. It was the right thing to do, but it also felt like the cowardly thing. She reached again for Logan's cell phone and redialed the last number. Again, the call went directly to Alec's voicemail. She hung her head and sighed painfully.

"This isn't good," she said. "He never turns it off."

"He may have," Logan offered.

"Why now?" Max asked aggressively.

"Well, who knows where Alec ended up after getting Original Cindy home," he said. "Look, when he said he'd rather be in bed this evening, I didn't take it to mean the guy needed a nap. Alec and I may not have much in common, but I understood that pretty clearly."

Max nodded guiltily and turned her head away as she felt tears prickle in the corners of her eyes. She pushed thoughts of what she knew Alec meant out of her mind. For a fleeting moment, she was glad she had not told Logan the truth. There was simply no time for the now seemingly pedestrian topic of infidelity when the survival of her people remained a mystery.

"Or maybe it's strategic," Logan continued. "Maybe having his phone ringing right now isn't wise. He's a survivor, Max. It's kind of what he does best."

Max nodded and wanted to believe it, but doubt writhed in her stomach like a pack of frenzied eels. Alec was going back to Terminal City that evening not trolling for a hook up with some stranger. He was going back there to wait for her; except she never arrived. Maybe he had gotten mad or his rejection was enough to send him on another of his wandering excursions into Seattle. If he ended up at the Space Needle as he apparently had done recently, he surely would have seen what happened at TC. She wondered if he would have rushed back there, but decided he would not.

Alec was a smart soldier and his instincts would have been to go to ground. Of course, she also thought he would have tried contacting her, regardless of how angry or put off he was at being stood up, he would have tried to find her. He would have figured she remained with Logan rather than returning so he would go to Logan's first, she reasoned.

He would also have turned his phone on, she knew as she hung her head.

Her thoughts, painful as they were, got worse as they strayed to the Blue Lady. She didn't believe in her or her power, yet she wanted to, but doing so only made her think of Ben. She could see him again, Alec's twin, lying dead in her arms, his life ended by her own hands. Now, Alec was missing, and she may have played a role in his death, too.

"We don't know if anyone is hurt or… worse," Logan said, looking up from his screen and reading her mind. "If he's gone to ground, the first thing Alec would do is turn off his phone. Sever all communication, right? That's the drill? Well, he would assume all his contacts were compromised and that he was being tracked so he would go completely dark. I'm not always one of Alec's fans, but he's a good soldier and a smart operative when it comes to this life and death stuff, right? So, he'll make contact when he can. He knows you were going to be here."

Max looked at Logan and remembered again why she initially fell for him. She was no longer sure what she felt for him, it was something but she did not know how to define it or what it meant, but she was certainly grateful he was there at that moment.

**# # # #**

A middle aged man sporting a razor sharp widow's peak stood in the crowd being held back by the security barricades. Several dozen media personnel were jockeying for the best position to give their reports while showing the billowing smoke and flashing lights emanating from the toxic waste land known as Terminal City. He dug into his breast pocket and fished out a cigarette.

He was paying most attention to the air-head, bottle-blond roughly 10 yards from him. She did not seem to understand that Terminal City was not an actual municipality within the confines of greater Seattle. Her camera man was explaining this to her with small words. The bystander smiled and drew deeply on his cigarette.

_No one cares what she says_, he thought, _as long as she smiles and the camera keeps the warzone in the back and the braless broadcaster in the front_.

His chance to observe her first attempt at the live feed was interrupted as his cell phone hummed in his pocket. He looked at the screen then nodded.

"Yeah, Cranston," he said.

"I never said you could assault the complex," his boss hissed. "I said locate and observe. I need her alive."

"I know," Cranston said. "I was following orders. I've been observing. Know what I observed? They don't use the street level to enter and exit."

"You were supposed to put surveillance in the sewers," the angry lady sniped.

"And I did," he replied. "But there are more than one way into those. Plus, they aren't the only ways your little ninja's get in and out of that hell hole they call home, but you don't need to worry. It's under control."

"I see that," she snapped. "The place is burning down. At least when they were all inside, we knew where to find them. Now, we've got a hunt on our hands."

Cranston looked beyond the media brigade to the far corner of the complex were teams in dark hazmat gear were loading bags into vans. He nodded appreciatively. He remembered those days, the grunt work, the heavy lifting. Some days, he missed it. Those days were easy. You got an order. It was a simple order and easy to carry out; you finished it and you got your next order. All this cloak and dagger crap to please people who knew nothing about fighting a war or running a military operation frayed his nerves. He didn't care that the enemy was a bunch of lab freaks. They could breath and they could bleed; that meant they could be killed. Anything that he could kill was something that didn't scare him. Of course, he wasn't so sure about his boss. _That bitch_, he thought, _might not be even half human_.

"It's under control," he said. "Looks like we have casualties. I was outside the Ops Center van a little while ago. They put in a call for more body bags. Doesn't sound like a lot of them escaped."

"Do they have prisoners?" his boss asked.

"Don't know," he shook his head. "My surveillance cameras picked up what looked like two, maybe three, fleeing after the shooting started. Not sure how many others got out, but I'm guessing very few. I'll be at the morgue shortly. I'll send you the photos of what they hauled out, but…"

"So help me, if they killed…," she began.

"I'll let you know," Cranston replied then disconnected.

He could only listen to that bitch rant for just so long. There was nothing he could do about the kill zone in front of him. He didn't authorize an assault. He was taken by surprise when it happened. The strike team, large strapping men and a few women, blazed into the complex in full kit. They had Kevlar vests and helmets. They were armed to the teeth with fully automatic weapons and also carried an assortment of canisters, which he suspected contained chemical agents that either burned the eyes and lungs or stopped them from working entirely. What he didn't understand was why the invading force wore no breathing apparatus to protect themselves.

_Think I would have learned not wonder about that kind of stuff by now_, he shook his head as he departed the media spectacle and made his way down the block back to his car. _Christ, I miss Don at moments like this._

Donald Lydecker had been his friend and mentor. He recruited Cranston from the Army to work for Manticore. Cranston had been one of his lieutenants who helped train their little super soldiers. He never particularly liked the beasts—no one who trained them did, except Lydecker. He was fine with admitting his jealous over their superior skills and talents. What he hated about them was their ability to be so easily manipulated. All that power, all that ability, and none of them seemed to realize they could have burned the whole place down if they just got a little creative.

True, the 2009 escapees flexed their muscles a bit, but running away was not something admirable. When 452 returned to try and destroy her former home, that gained her some respect from him. He remembered her a bit. She was considered special by Lydecker. Cranston thought she was good, but her skittishness around weapons made her a limited scope soldier. Her clone, 453, was another story. She wasn't as smart or creative (or to hear Lydecker talk, all that genetically impressive in comparison), but she could at least handle a gun without hesitation.

Maybe it was his chauvinistic view of the world and of war, but Cranston still thought the actual fighting was the job of the males. Women were prefect spies and intel operatives. They could kill just as well when needed, but as full on warriors, he wasn't sold—superior strength and coordination be damned. No, in an all out battle for survival and supremacy, if he was told to pick a team, he'd have gone with a few of the males on his side. He smiled at the thought: his own little army; that would have been nice. Cranston actually even liked a few of the little bastards he trained. Not all were complete robots in need of specific instructions. Some of them had been good at improvising and thinking on their feet. Those, he always felt, were the dangerous animals. Several, he recalled, were even capable of plotting and conniving; there was one in particular that he knew he would always recall fondly. He was a son-of-a-bitch of the first order. He could look you in the eye and lie so convincingly you would not know it; he cheated whenever he could; he scammed anyone he could; he bribed medical personnel and guards. If he had been human, Cranston would have made him one of his poker buddies (while making sure he never met one of his daughters).

Cranston shook his head and smiled at the thought. He didn't know precisely what his next orders would be, but he had an insurance policy against blame for the evenings debacle. If the team that raided the complex killed their target, there would be hell to pay. However, Cranston would not come home empty handed. He would bogart the body and deliver it to the boss so she could do whatever she wanted to with it. He would also be bringing in some still warm flesh. He held that part back from the bitch. This was his hand and he wasn't going to be outplayed just because she liked to yell on the phone. The bonus of his gift was, if the target of his surveillance wasn't on a slab, then he had something that they could use to draw her out of hiding. It was just a matter of pushing the right buttons, applying just enough pressure. Cranston knew enough about the target to know how to do both. He grinned happily as he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the street as he climbed into his car and headed toward the city morgue.

**# # # #**

Max's pacing reached the point that Logan feared she would set fire to the floor with the friction. It was nearing 9 a.m.

"Maybe he wasn't there," Logan offered, seeing the dead look in her eyes as she contemplated the possibility that Alec was dead as well.

"He was going back," she said, the awful truth crashing over her.

"He said he was optimistic for his chances to hook up," Logan said. "He might have hit another club or bar after dropping off Original Cindy. Alec on the prowl doesn't equate to calling it an early night."

Max stared at him with a destroyed look. Max was certain Alec was on the prowl for a hook up the previous night, but he was not going to look for it in a club. She knew precisely where Alec was when the death squads hit TC—precisely where he said he would be: her room, waiting.

"Look, even if he was there, and that's a big if, this is Alec," Logan said encouragingly. "He can take care of himself. He's not an idiot; if he saw what was coming, he would know he couldn't fight his way out. He'd find a way to escape. Reports say some got out."

"He wouldn't leave them behind," she shook her head.

"Alec?" Logan gave her a surprised look. "Not to argue with you, but he's pretty good at saving his neck. He wouldn't stick around to get shot or rounded up with the rest."

"He wouldn't leave Bugler behind," she shook her head. "He treats the kid like he's his personal valet, but he cares for him like a nephew or little brother. And Joshua. Alec would make sure they didn't get their hands on Joshua."

Logan nodded, not because he agreed, but because he did not want to argue. He was certain Joshua would stay behind to make sure Alec got out, but he wasn't sold on the Alec as Savior yarn Max was spinning. Sure, Alec had shown more heart recently and maybe he was different when around his own kind, but Logan still sensed the mercenary in him was fully active. He suspected Max thought so as well but did not want to speak ill of him incase tragic news arrived shortly.

"Look, I'll get some answers," Logan promised her. "We need cool heads here, Max. You need to stay put while I look into this, okay? The worst of this happened already. We can't change any of that. Give me your word, Max, that you won't do anything until we know more."

Max clenched her jaw and stared into the murky gray day outside. She might be the only of her kind left in the city. He friends, her family, might be dead and she was alive and (mostly) well in a safe haven being asked to promise not to avenge them, to not act on what she was feeling. She looked back at Logan's pleading expression. He could not fix this and that obviously pained him greatly. Even an Eyes Only broadcast wouldn't make things right, but neither would running into the smoldering remains of her former post. Max hung her head then nodded listlessly. Dying might be in her future, but she would not throw her life away without making that sacrifice mean something for those she cared for and was beginning to mourn.

**# # # #**

Max lifted her head from her desk and blinked hard several times as she looked groggily around her office. The same tired furniture, the same anemic light from the sickly fluorescent bulbs, the same drab walls scarred with water stains and age. She shivered for a moment, thinking it odd as she never got cold normally. She shook her head, trying to clear the clouds from her mind. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

She stepped out of her office into the main command center as she heard chatter in the room. She edged through the crowd, to get a closer look at the commotion gathered around what had informally become the duty desk for those working the security shift at TC. As she approached, Max could see Mole pacing and scowling—typical behavior for him, but his scowl was deeper than normal and his pacing a bit more clipped. In front of him, Alec sat laughing. Again, she noted, typical behavior; whatever he had done, he was taunting the transhuman for his own juvenile pleasure. However, when he lifted his head, Max gasped. Bruises and cuts were strewn across his face. A closer look at his hands revealed raw knuckles missing patches of skin.

"What happened?" Max said, stepping closer to peer at the cuts and abrasions on Alec's face.

She gingerly touched his face, but it felt oddly cold, much like the way she felt. Upon contact with her hand, Alec leaned away quickly to prevent her from grazing the stinging spots. He scowled angrily at her.

"Hey," he grumbled. "Careful."

"What happened?" Max asked and looked around, expecting to see some sign of an incursion into their base of operations.

"Three on one," Alec shrugged then winked at the two women (Cactus and Pride) in the group who were standing close and listening to him. "In my defense, it's been a while."

Max looked at him as her chin dropped. She looked next to Cactus and Pride, wondering if they were part of this little ménage a multiple. Each looked back at her with blank stares until Cactus suddenly shook her head with understanding.

"Uh, no," she said quickly. "Not that kind of three on one. No. Sparring. We were over in the warehouse and Mole was giving Alec grief about his cage fighting career. He said fighting Ordinaries was like fighting with little children. So, then the champ here said he could take on any one of us, which then led to the challenge of any two of us as Mole goaded him more. Then it went to any…"

"I get the picture," Max said then slapped the back of Alec's head. "Are you a moron?"

"I think it's actually pronounced: bad ass," he corrected her as he rubbed the sore spot on his head. "I could have taken them, but…"

"But it's hard to kick someone's ass when two of them are holding you down so the third can stomp a hole through your chest," Cactus grinned.

Alec inclined his head then nodded in agreement. Max shook her head and stared at the group. This seemed more like a night at Crash with the Jam Pony crew than it did a shift change for the security perimeter at TC. She shivered once again and turned her attention to Alec.

"You're a mess," Max noted. "You can't leave TC looking like a street brawler. We need to keep a low profile, Alec. You walk around looking like you got beat up by a block of concrete and people will start to stare."

"Nothing to it," he assured her.

"No one will notice," Pride agreed. "He's already showing improvement. I wasn't sure he'd survive the fight."

"You weren't?" Max asked and looked carefully back at him.

The injuries did not look as minor as everyone was acting. In fact, they appeared to be worsening. There was more blood running down his cheek from the abrasions and he appeared to be more pale by the moment.

"I was certain he was dead, but here he is," Pride said with an almost callous air of indifference. "Of course, it probably isn't as bad as it looks. No one actually stomped a hole in his chest. Richter only threatened to do it, but Mole stepped in and made him stop. Actually, Richter ended up with a broken arm by the end of it. He'll be out of commission for a couple days—unless, of course, he dies."

She smiled nonchalantly and offered a carefree shrug that struck Max as cruel and infuriatingly cold. Max next looked at Alec and shook her head. Taking on Richter was pointless and practically suicide. The man was a mountain of muscle and bone. She suspected there was rhino (and possibly some T-Rex) in his DNA. He was not a stealth soldier. He was a pack animal, capable to carrying and lifting heavy objects and plowing through any barrier, whether a simple brick wall or something slightly more difficult like a rock avalanche. She did not care to think what even a single blow from the man's fists could do to a body. Stomping through a man's sternum was not an expression with him. He could have worn Alec like a slipper if he wanted.

"I had it covered," Alec nodded. "I'm a survivor, aren't I?"

"Why would you do it at all?" Max asked. "There's no way Mole egged you on enough to do this."

Alec shrugged, but he looked at her with a fleeting glance that was filled with both accusation and rejection. In that instant, Max knew why he had done it. He was blowing off steam, to rid himself of the anger and anxiety and disappointment he felt after Max stood him up. She felt wretched again. She had betrayed Logan and now she felt she had done the same to Alec. If she was in his shoes, she would have hopped on her bike and ridden it as fast and as far as she could until the feverish anger and her in her burned itself out. Not Alec. No, instead he chose to engage in something more dangerous that would cause him more physical pain, perhaps to mask or overwhelm whatever else he was feeling. He chose to spill blood and sweat.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," he replied with a shrug.

Alec gave his onlookers a calculated nod. Taking the signal that he did not want anyone to hear the reaming he was about to get, each departed, giving Max odd, lingering looks before they disappeared into the shadows of the cavernous room. As they left, Max stood with her arms folded as she looked at Alec with concern. The bruising around his eyes was evident as were the minute cuts on his cheeks. However, he did not seem to be bothered by the damage. He looked at her with his innocent expression and smiled.

"What's going on, Alec?" she asked with a shrug. "Lately, you're all over the place. You're here and helping out, then you disappear for hours on end. Now, you're back here picking fights with people and getting your ass kicked, but you're smiling about it."

"I'm a complicated man, Max," he said. "You should have given me more credit."

"Look, if you're on the verge of some meltdown…," she began but stopped as he tilted his head and offered he a sympathetic expression and tone.

"I'm fine, Maxie," he said then rubbed her arm. "I take care of me. I always have. Not like I can count on you."

"You didn't do this because you're… mad because of… me," she wondered.

"Why would I be mad?" he asked, looking at her deeply with his misty green eyes. She found them hard to read but harder still to not look into them. "It wasn't supposed to go down like this, but it did. Things went a little too far. The rough and tumble—it's what we were built to do. Built to fight and to die. Gotta have fun with it, right?"

"Fun?" she repeated as she winced looking at the marks on him. "This was fun?"

She reached forward cautiously and touched his cheek, feeling suddenly warmth from him. As she looked again into his inviting green eyes, her own shivers stopped and the room felt very still. Alec looked back, his wicked grin shifting subtly into a gracious smile. He lifted his hand and slowly pulled hers away from his face. He held her hand for a moment.

He appeared to be fading in front of her. His skin was a deathly shade and the blood continued to ooze from the cuts. Other blooms of red were appearing on his arms and chest. She could smell it in the air. It raised a sour taste in her mouth.

"I'm okay," he assured her.

"I don't think you are," she said nearly choking on her words.

"Things got a little out of control," he admitted. "Sometimes when that happens, people get hurt. That's just how our lives are, Max. Created to fight; certain to die. Enjoy the moments that you can when you can; live in the moment."

She repeated the words under her breath and for a moment she was no longer in the command center with him. She far away, secluded in a luxury room in hotel miles and miles from the filth and bigotry of Seattle. They were alone in that room, together. She closed her eyes momentarily and could feel the touch of his hands on her skin, his lips on hers, the weight of his body pressing into hers. Her heart stuttered as her mind relived the excitement, but as quickly as the moment of revelry had come, her mind snapped back like a broken rubber band and the chill returned to her.

"I have to go now, Max," he said, his voice sounded farther away.

"No," she shook her head. "Why? Where are you doing? What's happening?"

"You know what happened… and why," Alec said. Max looked back at him with confusion. "You weren't here. You left us. We needed you; I needed you, and you were off with lover boy. Hope it was worth it."

"I didn't do this," she asserted, feeling a surge of anger at him. "You can't blame this on me."

"I don't," Alec said, then looked over his shoulder. "You do. Goodbye, Maxie."

The room swiftly changed from the grungy but orderly command post she knew to a crater. Smoke filled the air and a strange light from fires burning in the hallways cast an eerie glow on the room. She whirled around to see what was happening and saw bodies sprawled across the floor, mangled and burned and bleeding.

"Alec!" she called out, reaching her hand forward to find him and lead him out.

Her hand swiped at cold, empty air. She squinted into the haze. It stung her eyes and made tears appear and streak down her face. She could sense he was near. He could not have gone far. He had been there, close enough to touch, just a moment earlier. She called his name again as she choked on the smoke.

"You did this, Max," she heard Alec say distantly. "You left us. You left me. I couldn't get them out on my own. I needed you and you weren't there. Look what happened."

"I'm sorry," she coughed as a dry lump welled in her throat. "Take my hand. Please. I can help you. I'm here now. Alec? Alec?"

She felt a hand grip her shoulder and jostle her body. Max inhaled sharply and picked her head up as she opened her eyes fully. She was in the kitchen at Logan's place. A chill filled the air from the back door as Logan closed it tightly. His face was red and his eyes watering from the frigid wind howling outside. Max rubbed her eyes and looked at him expectantly.

It had been a long day and a half since the news broke and neither could handle remaining the dark on all details other than those they eyes could see. The horizon to the west no longer glowed orange. The large plumes of smoke were gone now. The hail of sirens that previously filled the air were now silent. Only the moan of the wind filled the air.

Max had spent the intervening hours pacing and spending every ounce of strength she had keeping herself put. It felt wrong still, not going out to search for her friends. What bothered her more than not looking for them was the dawning realization that they did not appear to be looking for her either. A few of them certainly knew where to find Logan. After their world was torn apart by this surprise attack, someone should have come looking for Logan, for answers, for her.

One of those persons should have been Alec, she knew. She looked at Logan's cell phone clutched in his hand. He followed her gaze and shook his head. Her unspoken question was answered: No one had called. She had finally left Alec a cryptic message before Logan left. She was certain Alec would know what she meant and what to do if he received it. Apparently, he had not.

The other person who should have come searching for her was Joshua. She pushed thoughts of him from her mind. His absence from the house crushed her heart and made her blood run cold. She looked expectantly at Logan for any news.

He had left sometime earlier to check with some of his contacts throughout the city. The police servers and emergency medical databases had no information, which wreaked of a cover up in his mind. He feared hacking into the federal system as if they were the ones responsible for the attack they surely would be trolling for anyone eavesdropping on their communications. Face-to-face contact was likely to be the safest, despite the risk it posed, but Logan was driven. This happened on his watch. He had not had an inkling it was coming and he felt responsible. He considered himself one of Max's early warning systems. Somehow, this snuck by him and he had failed her.

The previous 32 hours had been difficult on both of them. Logan was impressed with the restraint Max showed in not rushing off to find her friends. The energy it took for her to remain in place was evident. She was spent. She looked more tire and haggard than she had after breaking free from months as a prison at Manticore. Now that he could touch her and offer comfort, Logan longed to do it, but he sensed a resistance from Max. She radiated a very strong vibe that acted like a force field keeping him at an arm's length.

He knew it was the stress of the moment and her overwhelming feelings of guilt. He only said once that it would not have mattered whether she was there or not. The attack was well-planned and had nothing to do with her absence. They knew now it was certainly an attack. The media was still showing day-old video of the initial aftermath and quoting sources who claimed it was an internal explosion of unknown origin and casualties were also not readily known. While police and troops were sticking with their half statements and promises for updates in the near future, Logan now knew for certain that was not accurate.

"Well?" Max asked expectantly.

"Were you just calling out for Alec?" Logan asked.

"What?" she shook her head.

The image of the decimated command post was burned in her mind. Alec, his face initially battered and bleeding but still laughing at some joke she didn't know, was fresh in her mind. Realizing it was a dream returned the cold, sinking feeling to her stomach. She tried not to think of it any further. The assault happened deep in the dark hours. He, and so many others, would have been asleep. The thought that he may have died in her room, possibly in her bed, pained her more than she could consider. Telling Logan the truth, as she had initially planned, seemed pointless and unimportant as she looked back at him waiting for the awful confirmation she feared he held.

"I heard you when I walked in," Logan said, and offered her a comforting expression. "It sounded like a nightmare. Are you okay?"

"As fine as I can be," she said listlessly. "Should I take the fact that you are delaying telling me what you know to mean the news is as bad as I feared?"

Logan sighed and sat heavily beside her at the kitchen table. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not want to deliver this news. He didn't like the pictures now swimming in his head nor any of the news he had to report.

"There are casualties," he said and placed his hand on hers. As expected, she slowly recoiled, pulling her palm back and placing it in her lap. "Fourteen bodies in the morgue under heavy guard."

"Are any sector police or military?" she asked, knowing the answer before Logan spoke.

"No," he said shaking his head. "Beverly, Dr. Shankar, let me see the photos of the bodies they brought in. Eight transhumans; six trangenics and one they initially labeled as human."

"There was an ordinary in the compound?" Max asked, terrified that Alec sped up his return to TC and brought OC there to leave her in a room for the night.

"No," Logan shook his head and swallowed hard. "It was a child, an infant. I haven't seen her in a while, but I believe it's Gem's baby, Eve. Gem was there as well so I figure…"

Max felt a wave of nausea wash through her. The only good thing she could think of was that the mother and child were not separated even in death. The thought that they were about to be carved up for investigation and study made Max feel even more sick.

"Who else?" she asked.

Her voice didn't sound like her own. She felt very detached from her body and this room. She didn't feel like she existed at all. She knew she did because there was that terrible knot in her stomach and the choking clench in her throat that let her know her body did still feel and she was attached to it, but she felt like she was slipping away and that was okay. Away would be a good place right now.

"I'm sorry," Logan began, his eyes filling with tears. "I don't know all their names. Beverly said she'll get me copies of the barcode pictures as soon as she can. She's under a lot of scrutiny right now so she… She wanted to help, Max, but this is out of her hands."

Max nodded. The doctor took a huge risk talking to Logan at all and telling him anything. Showing him photos when the military and police were likely watching her every move was gutsy and beyond the call of duty.

"Mole," Logan said, offering up the names he did know. "Zero. Fix it and I think her name was Ralph."

Max continued to nod, tears streaming down her face. She turned her vacant stare toward Logan, suspecting he was holding the worst for last. She decided to cut to it quickly.

"Joshua?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head firmly. "He's not one of them. I did learn they didn't take anyone into custody."

"Because everyone was dead?" she asked.

"Because it sounds like a few escaped," he said, hoping this would offer her some hope. "You guys had a lot of ways in and out. Could be a few of your people… got out of Dodge. Joshua could be one of them. I mean, there's no evidence they have him at the morgue and no one saw anyone taken out alive so, the evidence is reasonable that he's out there, hiding out."

Max hung her head. If that was true, she suspected Joshua would have come looking for her. He would have come to this house, his former house, Father's house. She pressed her hands to her face and felt the hot tears fill her palms.

"Alec, too," Logan said.

Max gasped and looked up at him with a startled expression. She looked at him horror stricken as she began to ache all over.

"I mean, I think he's hiding out," Logan assured her, placing his hand gently on her trembling arm. "He's not in the morgue, Max. None of those bodies are his. Whatever happened last night, he left Terminal City alive. Now, I'm not trying to give you false hope, but I've been thinking about what you said. Maybe he is with Joshua. They're buddies, right? They'd look out for each other if all hell broke loose, right?"

Max wasn't sure. She hoped that was true, but it would depend on whether they knew where the other was when the assault came. Still, for as awful as the news was, Max had something to hang onto. Joshua and Alec were not on the KIA list. They might be hurt. They might be captives. They might simply be on the run. Whatever the case, they were not confirmed dead. She wanted to hold onto that for now, but it felt flimsy.

"You said Joshua and Bugler are two that he would watch out for," Logan reminded her. "Well, the three musketeers are not in the morgue and they are not in custody. I have a theory they are together. That's something to hang onto, Max."

She heard him and nodded mechanically, but she really did not believe it. After so many hours, one of them would have come to the house. She felt cold yet again and the dragging feeling pulling on her grew stronger. Her head throbbed and every cell on her body ached. She hung her head and placed it in her hands.

"There's more news," Logan said. He offered her a worried look that seemed pointless in this moment as everything was a point of worry and anxiety. "Sketchy called. He was looking for you. I said I hadn't seen you, but he said Original Cindy didn't come to work today at all. She didn't even call in. He's worried she heard about the attack and left to go find you."

"She was going home after the Warp," Max said. "I don't think anything would have woken her until the sun was up. I doubt even the explosion would have woken her. By the time she got up, she'd know she couldn't get near Terminal City."

"Yeah, she had her fair share the other night," Logan recalled. "But that started me thinking. She knew you were coming home with me. Wouldn't she have called me looking for you?"

Max nodded. She felt herself sinking even further.

"I was worried, so, I went to her apartment," Logan swallowed. "Max, I don't think she got home after the rave the other night."

"What are you saying?" Max asked.

"I don't want to make this worse for you, but do you think Alec would have taken her back to Terminal City rather than carry her home?" he asked. "I know her apartment and the club were about the same distance from Terminal City, but Alec didn't have a sector pass. That's not a problem for him, but he was carrying her. Would he have taken her back to TC on one of his special routes to save himself the trouble of dealing with Sector Police?"

Max shrugged. She didn't know. He might have, but nothing made sense right now so anything Logan suggested would sound reasonable.

"I'm just asking," Logan sighed. "There is no evidence Original Cindy was at Terminal City, but if she was, maybe she had to flee with them."

"If that was true, and they were all fine, one of them would have contacted you," Max said darkly.

Logan looked back at her feeling sadness and impotence. He had come to the same conclusion, but that did not make it the only possibility. He stood and walked to his computer and began typing. Max watched him with little interest. Several minutes later, he barked a partial laugh and fixed a grin on Max.

"Where there is hope there is another option," he nodded. "Swedish Medical Center! Female, African-American brought in by ambulance yesterday morning around seven a.m. Discovered by sanitation workers unconscious at… about four blocks from Dexter Street."

Max pulled herself from her fog and rushed to look at his monitors. The location was not far from the abandoned building on Thomas and Dexter that housed the rave. The location was in the direction she last saw Alec and OC traveling.

"She had ID when she left the club," Max said, not daring to hope.

"Maybe someone took it," Logan offered. "It's a rough neighborhood. Maybe she got mugged."

"Alec would have dealt with that," Max shook her head. "This woman is still listed as a Jane Doe. Why? OC would have given them her name."

"Well," Logan offered softening the blow with his tone as much as possible. "She was unconscious when they brought her in and this looks like she went into surgery. She's listed as stable. Maybe she's not awake yet."

Max did not need to hear any more. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and headed toward the door. She was prepared to use her superior speed and strength of Logan foolishly tried to stop her, but found she didn't need to do so. She heard his keys jingle in his hands so she turned. He was following her and offering to drive.

**# # # #**

Logan stood in the hallway appearing to casually being checking messages on his phone as Max slipped into the patient's room behind him. He would stand guard outside while she spoke with the woman laying semi-conscious in the bed. A quick peak in the room had confirmed that the unnamed patient was in fact Original Cindy. She was out of recovery after surgery the previous day to a metal plate in her forearm to repair a devastating fracture and a series of stabilizing wires clamping her teeth shut to hold her broken jaw in place as well. She also had a concussion and had suffered a mild case of hypothermia after being left to the chilly and damn elements for one night while wearing nothing more than the skimpy crop pants and half shirt she wore to the rave the night before.

Max approached the bed quietly and touched OC's uninjured arm. OC turned her head groggily away from the dreary view out of the window to look at her visitor. Her eyes opened wider and she hissed a surprised and relieved greeting.

"Boo," OC cried quietly through her clenched teeth. "You here."

"I'm here,?" Max said.

"You okay," OC said through her swollen lips. "I was worried. I saw the TV…."

"Yeah," Max said, blinking back a tear. "A mess, huh?"

"You shouldn't be here," OC shook her head tiredly. "Need to lay low."

"I got back up," Max said, nodding toward the door. Logan looked inside briefly and waved. "What happened to you?"

"I don't know," OC replied. "We was near Grant, just off Seventh, when this van pulled up."

"You and Alec?" Max asked to be certain.

"Yeah, brother man was carting me home," she recalled with a heavy sigh. "Then all at once, Alec dropped me. He just let go and then shoved me back out of the way and said to run. I was pissed at him for dropping me, but then I saw the van."

OC winced at the memory. Her body shuddered as she held in a sob of fury and sadness. She kept replaying that moment. What if she had run? What if she had gotten away? What would have happened differently? She didn't have those answers, but that did not stop her from asking the questions over and over every time her mind grew quiet.

"How many were there?" Max asked.

"Five, maybe six," she replied as a tear slid out of her eye. "They rushed him. He got the first two off of him, but they had these things like cattle prods. Alec, he took another one of them down, snapped the guy's knee or something and he had another one by the neck when the first two got up and hit him with those glowing sticks. Two at once. Max, he didn't even scream. He just went down."

Max nodded, her stomach rolling with nausea.

"What happened after that?" she inquired.

"I don't know," OC shook her head slowly. "I tried to get up and do something, shout, anything, 'cept my shoe was a mess and I tripped. I fell and then my arm was all bent funny then everything went dark. Nex I know, I woke up here."

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She had watched the news coverage over the previous few hours about what she missed while she was out of commission and in surgery. She knew Max had not been at TC when the big bad went down, but she had no idea where she might be. OC didn't want to call Logan, figuring he and Max would have more than enough on their hands, but she needed to tell someone about Alec. She wondered if his encounter was related to the battle that happened inside the wasteland he and Max called home most recently.

"I'm sorry," OC said.

"It's okay," Max said, stroking her hair gently. "It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Did they kill Alec?" OC asked tentatively.

"I don't know," Max answered, her face brightening slightly from the ashen pallor she sported when she entered. "What you just told me actually gives me hope."

"Why?" OC asked.

"What you told me is the first I knew that maybe Alec wasn't there when Terminal City got hit," Max reported. "At least a dozen transgenics are dead and most of the transhumans. A few of us may have escaped."

"Joshua?" OC asked in a terrified voice.

"Don't know," Max shook her head. "But he's not dead until I know he's dead. So far, I don't have any information on him so maybe he got out."

"Who took Alec?" OC asked. "Same ones who hit your fortress?"

Max shrugged. It was possible. It seemed unlikely two unrelated raids were executed on Manticore escapees in the same night, but that did not make it impossible. Still, why go after just one on a public street when they could simply have taken him once he returned to TC later?

"Don't know," Max replied. "It's possible."

"I'm sorry," OC said sorrowfully.

"No," Max said, shaking her head and looking at her friend with compassion. "You've give me hope. At least I know he wasn't at the compound when all this happened."

"Those guys meant business, Max," OC warned. "They made me think of the ones who used to chase you."

"Did you see any tattoos?" she asked. Max had seen no evidence yet to say the attack on TC was from White's genocidal breeding cult, but the lack of evidence over who did it made her suspicious. "Did they seem like freaky strong like… well, like me?"

"No," OC shook her head slightly. "Alec had no trouble with them until they doubled dipped on him with their shock sticks. I didn't see barcodes either; not that I was really in my head, but I woke up quick when they jumped us. Those guys were… they were just thugs… kind of like regular soldiers. All in black. Alec hurt a few of them, but then they got him in the end. This is my fault."

"No," Max soothed. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I made him take me home," she said. "If he wouldn't have had me distracting him, they might not have jumped him. Max, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry," Max said. "He's alive. I'm gonna find him. I'm going to find all of them."

**# # # #**

Darkness and dampness were the universe. Light did not exist and apparently neither did anything dry or warm.

Alec had a pain in his wrists and shoulders. They were pulled high above his head and chained. The manacles on his wrists were tight enough to pinch the sink and chafe. He was seated on what felt like concrete. His legs were similarly restrained. His back was pressed against a cold damp. He did not know how long her had been there. A scarier thought came to him: He did not know how long he had been conscious.

He knew he was blindfolded and time had passed. The pain in his limbs told him it had been hours since he had been moved. A burning sensation in his side and along his neck registered in his memory. He had been zapped by the apes who jumped him from the dark van on Seventh Street. He recalled that.

He listened carefully, concentrating on any noise near him. There was nothing. No mechanical sounds. No water dripping. No other breathing. He was alone. Fear saturated his cold and sore muscles as he realized he had no idea where Original Cindy was nor if she was able to flee. He lost sight and track of her in the scuffle then lost consciousness altogether.

Alec had the vague sensation he had been moved several times since then. He could not pinpoint any precise memory to link this feeling to, but it was strong in his mind. It also made sense. He was a prisoner, and this was certainly not the van the goons who grabbed were driving.

He felt a certain amount of relief as he put the pieces of his memory together. His captors were not the freakish warriors known as the Familiars from White's breeding cult. They were just men. They were well armed and well trained men, but just men all the same. That reduced the pool of bad guys to Sector Police and federal troops in his mind. Not that being the prisoner for either was a tantalizing prospect, but he liked his chances better in their hands.

_OC might have gotten away_, he told himself. _She'll go to Max. Max will figure this out. They'll throw together a posse and spring me from this joint. Hell, Logan's probably got the whole thing on hacked hover drone footage. _

Alec smiled at the thought and for a moment felt sorry that he was on the verge of wooing Max away from him completely. He actually liked Logan on some level. He was a smart guy; he just wasn't the right guy for Max, but he was a good ally to have when you were abducted and had your ass chained to wall while blindfolded.

In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to think and behave as if no one knew he was gone and that no rescue was coming. He would chew on that possibility and his options soon. For now, he was keeping his head loose and his thoughts positive. He recalled from his Manticore training that was the hardest part of captivity: keeping your head in the game and not giving up.

For example, he could begin to panic about the numbness in his hands and feet from the pressure and tension on his restraints, but he didn't. He knew they were numb, but that told him he still had the ability to feel that they existed. He was also curious about the stinging sensations in the crook of his right elbow. He did not recall being jabbed whether with the electric prods in the fight, but he wasn't automatically suspect he had been injected in that location. He didn't feel any different; he was not dizzy. His head did not feel cloudy. That was sufficiently credible evidence for him to put the possibility of needles with deadly serum near the end of his list of possibilities.

The sound of heavy boots, military issue he knew, sounded on the concrete floor. He did not fight them as they released his wrists and dragged him to the middle of the floor, laying him on some type of metal structure on the floor. He felt the cold skeleton of the frame press into his cheek.

Alec grinned at how easy this was. It was like being back in training class. This was textbook. He knew precisely what to expect next. _Fools_, he thought,_ you have no idea who or what I am_. He had been good, no, great, at SERE training (survival, evasion, resistance, and escape) at Manticore. Survival and escape were his specialty—the two most important in his opinion. As long as you lived and got your ass out, you had done the most vital things. His smile widened for a moment until one of his guards pulled his blindfold off. That was not supposed to happen. Intimidation worked best when there was an unknown factor. Not seeing your captors was a huge card to throw away…. Unless…

His smile remained in place but slackened a bit as he heard the clicking of high heels on the concrete along with a third tap accompanying each step.

"Oh, it is so good to see you again," a woman's voice said as she cackled and clapped slowly.

Alec froze and looked at the new arrival. His heart sunk just as a jolt of hatred shot through his bones. His upper lip curled slightly in a snarl as he offered her a wild and vicious glare.

"Oh, is that sweet smile just for me?" she cooed in a way that made his skin crawl.

"I was so happy when I was told you were dead," Alec said. "Nice limp, by the way. Which leads me to my next question: You're going to tell me you're a zombie now, right?"

Elizabeth Renfro walked in a slow and stilted fashion, leaning on a cane, as she traversed the floor. She approached Alec as the guards held him down with his cheek pressed to the floor. She stood close and placed the pointy toe of her high heel onto his neck and applied pressure. Alec wished he had a slightly different angle; he would have enjoyed sinking his teeth into her leg or biting through her Achilles tendon just then.

"Oh, 494, how I have missed you," Renfro said. "You were always such a fun toy to play with. It really has been too long. Of course, you know how I found you. You got sloppy. Didn't protect your blindside. You made friends. Haven't learned yet that you were created as a lone wolf, have you? All that desperate loneliness in you is your downfall every time. I mean, did it ever occur to you that it was kind of odd that some crackpot Russian braintrust could beat one of our bioweapons using a few test tubes?"

"Sveta doesn't work for you," he sneered although he was not as confident as his words indicated.

"No, but she works for the people I work with," Renfro smiled. "She tapped into some of our files and found the vaccination to fix your little bed buddies and stole it—passed it off as her own genius cure. Of course, she also handed us 452's DNA in the process when her own idea failed. It was a nice deal for us until you went computer surfing. You really shouldn't have done your fellow X-5 that favor. It's what landed you here. See, since we don't have her code anymore, we need to go after the real thing."

Alec wasn't sure if he should believe her. She had no reason to tell him the truth; however, she did feel superior and would enjoy hurting him psychologically. It was her preferred method of torture and was her specialty. He recalled how she took perverse pleasure in using the truth as a weapon, grinding and tearing at you with it.

"See, you weren't quite as stealthy as you thought," Renfro continued. "Of course, that's sort of the continuing theme with this. After all, you messed up with your Russian friend, too. I remember that you're a fan of movies so I guess you could say that what put you here is sort of your From Russia With Love moment. Before we dealt with your doctor friend, she told us all about you and your… motivations. You never did learn how to shut your mouth. You find someone who will listen and you start talking then everything just spills out eventually, doesn't it? We had you cured of that for a while, but you know, it's sad when I look at you now. You're not quite the soldier I first sent into the field are you, 494?"

Alec gritted his teeth and looked away from her, staring at the far wall. When he spoke, his voice was strained due to her foot constricting his windpipe and voice box.

"Alec McDowell," he responded. "Alpha Squadron. Infiltration and retrieval."

"What's that, 494?" Renfro asked with a light laugh.

"Alec McDowell," he repeated. "Alpha Squadron. Infiltration and retrieval."

Renfro continued to chuckle then nodded.

"Oh, right," she replied. "New name. New assignment. Whole new you, is that the idea?"

She clucked her tongue then limped away. She snapped her fingers and his guards flipped him over and held him firm by his chains. They quickly lashed him to some posts on the floor, keeping his arms spread wide and his feet bound tightly together. Alec found himself momentarily blinded as the overhead light in this otherwise darkened concrete box burned directly into his eyes. He turned his head, dazzled by the brightness, then heard other chains and pulleys working. Swiftly, his feet were whisked above his head and he was hung upside down in an inverted cross position. Blood immediately rushed to his head and made his head swim for a moment. Renfro limped slowly around him, leaning heavily on her cane.

"So this is what you've been reduced to," Renfro observed in a disappointed tone. "I think you were better situated before you ran off like a coward, 494."

"Alec McDowell," he began but stopped as one of the guards swung his baton at Alec's side.

The billy club collided with the bone and muscle with an vicious and angry slap. Alec's mind quickly informed him of what his side was already feeling: You are now hemorrhaging internally.

"Careful," Renfro said sharply. "I don't have a spare spleen for him."

"He can live without one," said a helpful and eager guard to Alec's left.

"True, but he'll bleed out if you inflict too much damage," she nodded. "Surgery isn't on the schedule… yet. "

Alec breathed carefully and slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth. The pain was strong but bearable, although the urge of his muscles to contract around the area of impact told him there were serious muscle contusions and possibly a little organ bruising.

"Not really all that much fun being a cast off, is it?" Renfro said, her fingers skimming against his side where his shirt had slipped exposing his skin. "Is anyone even going to miss you or know that you're gone? I doubt it. It's sad. Back when you were on my team, there was none of this playing secondary support for your fellow mutants. You demoted yourself; you made yourself a second-rate back up dancer to what? A bitchy little run away who couldn't hack basic training. It breaks my heart to see you like this, 494. I mean, you used to be a leader. You were one of my solo artists, one of my best. Now, what are you?"

"Alec McDowell," he repeated, looking straight ahead and seeing only her knees. "Alpha Squadron. Infiltration and retrieval."

Her nails dug deeper into his flesh as she latched a hungry and almost intimate grip on his abdomen. She raked her fingers across, scratching him deeply as if carving the individual muscles free to excise them.

"You think I don't know who and what you really are?" she asked in a quiet voice that managed to echo in the cold room. "It doesn't matter what 452 has told you or what you've let her convince you of. You're going to come back to me, 494. You're going to be on my team again. We both know it. You're not as independent as her, and you and I both know that you're not as strong as her. I can prove that scientifically. I know precisely what's in your DNA ,and face it: You're a slave to all those little special and not-so-special things we put in your code."

Alec set his jaw firmly and kept his face without expression. He felt the blood continue to rush to his head as his side throbbed. He maintained his breathing and looked ahead without blinking as she continued to walk around him.

"We put that stuff in you and then we programmed you to be one of our animals," she said. "That's how you started and that's who you are still. So, regardless of what you're trying to prove right now, you are and always will be one of our creations, 494."

"Alec McDowell," he said again. "Alpha Squadron. Infiltration and retrieval."

"No," Renfro chuckled. "You are X5-494. Nearly 500 came before you and nearly as many after you. You're not an individual; that's why you never got a name. And, of the nearly 1,000 experiments that we did, you were one of our many failures. I tried for a long time to think otherwise, to excuse your short comings, but I have to admit my error. It's not easy for me to do, you know. I don't usually make these kind of mistakes."

_Gimme time and I will show you what kind of mistake you made letting me know you're alive,_ Alec thought to himself. The urge to break free was strong and the urge to harm even stronger. He was not a bloodthirsty killer by nature, but he knew he had the skill and the stomach to do it, especially to someone so deserving.

_Time_, he reminded himself, _bide your time_. He just needed a little time to figure a way out of the restraints or the right time to catch the guards at a vulnerable moment when they moved him. He would move swiftly, but he would be merciful in his executions. C-4 and C-5 breaks left the person dead before they hit the floor and often before they ever realized they were doomed.

"Plotting your escape?" Renfro wondered as she leaned down and twisted his chin, forcing him to look into her cold eyes and psychotically blond hair. "So predictable. I know you, 494. Every thought. Every feeling. Every idea. I know them because you are precisely what we ordered you to be. You were never creative enough or strong enough to be anything else."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she shook her head and gazed at him pitifully.

"You are a shallow, simple minded, opportunistic, cold blooded assassin—just the way we built you," she sighed disappointedly. "Right now, you're at war with yourself, and I know why because I know you better than you know yourself. I know what's inside you and how it all works and, for you, doesn't work. See, you've got a lot of little things in you that don't go together, because that's how we wanted it. We didn't want you to be fully functional so every time we hauled you in for yet another inspection, more retraining and re-indoctrination, we did more work on that colossal mess inside your pretty melon. It wasn't all that hard, either."

"You think so," Alec scoffed, jerking is chin away from her grasp.

She grabbed him again, sinking her nails in until they sliced through his skin and practically touched the bones inside.

"Oh, I know so," she replied. "I knew when you were playing your little game of true blue soldier. You never fooled us, 494. I let you think you were smarter. That was part of my game. I needed to do that so that I could use you the way you were intended. We created you to be hungry, never satisfied, always looking for the next score and willing to do whatever it took to get it. We put a bit of jackal in you, goes nice with the jaguar splices, actually."

She caressed his bicep, giving him a revolting chill as his stomach turned in a nauseating fashion. Alec slid his eyes away, rolling them in the process, hoping to show her taunts were not getting to him.

"We put those in you to keep you all on edge and uncomfortable in your own skin so you'd want and you'd need, to put on another guise, another mask and become someone else," Renfro continued. "But, it was a bad mixture, a poor crossbreed, because you really didn't excel at anything other than… well, not excelling. You were average, and in a class of all above average overachievers, that's simply not going to make the final cut. I guess when it comes right down to it, you're really not much more than a step above livestock."

Spitting would have felt good right then, Alec knew, but his mouth was dry. It also would serve no purpose. Renfro was aware he despised her. Spitting actually seemed nearly a compliment considering the boiling feelings he was having about her in that instant. She looked down at him, and shook her head pityingly and smirked superiorly.

"You're a trained beast, 494," she said. "We made you look pretty so we could take you out and show you off as a distraction. Of course, we probably could have paid some down and out actor to do the job for less than it cost to create and maintain you; we might have gotten better results in the end. Hell, a chimp might have been able to follow directions better than you did. Then again, you are slightly better to look at and, unlike an actor, you don't have the brains to rebel or ask for payment. So I guess we kept you because you were less trouble than a primate, but not by much. You know, when I look back at your short and pathetic career with us, I think the only thing you did right was let us pass you off as mildly effeminate piano teacher for a lovesick teenager. I hope you enjoyed that sad little love connection because we surely didn't. I have to say, I felt a lot like a pimp during that debacle. Huh, I guess that makes you my whore."

"You're not my type, and you couldn't afford me," Alec replied plainly.

He gasped for air again as the baton from one of the guards struck him. This one landed across his right knee. He heard as well as felt the bones crack. His mind reeled. Something was definitely wrong. A cheap shot to the gut could cause some damage for certain, especially when his muscles were stretched and he was in such a vulnerable position. However, even a full swing by a grown man with a night stick should not break his bones. Cause bruising, sure, but his form was more resilient than that. His bones did not break under so little pressure. He snapped his watering eyes up at Renfro and glared at her as he felt his muscles begin to quiver while the pain radiated through his body.

"Noticed something?" she asked with a menacing smile. "You ran off to try and be normal and live among human beings. Well, I'm just giving you what you want. Here it is Pinocchio: your chance to be a real boy."

Without further discussion, she turned with her cane and hobbled out of the room, leaving Alec hanging upside in agony as his guards exchanged eager looks and began slapping their batons in the palms in anticipation of some fun.

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N:** Stay tuned. More to come... give me two weeks or so.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 10)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Someone out there really wanted the next chapter and conjured up a 'wicked bad winter storm' so I could stay home from work and write. So, voila, a blizzard named Nemo. Well, played. However, no I beg you, whoever you are, please ease up. There comes a point when more snow just means more shoveling not more writing. Sorry for the typos. Flickering power makes proofreading difficult.

* * *

**# # # #**

Max didn't want to leave Original Cindy alone at the hospital, but both the patient and Logan felt Max would be safer to stay under cover for the time being. OC would survive her injuries. Her release from the hospital would be in a few days. Returning to work would be difficult; riding a bike with her arm in a fiberglass cast was asking for another accident. Max knew Normal would grumble and threaten termination, but in the end he would permit her to help on the dispatch desk.

As she left, Max again promised she and Logan would find Alec. The forlorn look on OC's face showed she felt as much hope as Max did. Logan, however, was certain now that they had a time frame and a location to narrow their search, that he could find the clues they needed to find the wayward transgenic.

Back at Logan's house more than an hour later, Logan was working on hacking into the archive of hover drone footage from the previous few days. The video from night of the attack on Terminal City was more secure than other footage. The hours leading up to the explosion were especially well protected. The hours afterward, no so much. To keep Max focused on doing cyber research and not on hitting the pavement to look for Alec and Joshua on foot, Logan first got into the footage from after the explosion. He did not realistically hope to find anything of value in those hours of images, but it would give Max something to do. While she focused on that video, Logan worked his magic tearing down firewalls and busting through the security on the other servers. Eventually, he found what he was looking for.

"Okay," Logan said, summoning her from her viewings. "I got it. Granted, it's not much but…."

Max looked over his shoulder at the monitor.

The faces on the video were obscured by the poor resolution on the camera, but the overall scene was easy to decipher. Six men, dressed in black and wearing ski masks, jumped out of a dark van without windows or license plates. They halted besides a man who was carrying a woman piggyback fashion as they approached an intersection on the empty late-night streets. From the plumes of frozen breath, the air was cold and there was a terse exchange of words. The man dropped his cargo, pushing her strategically into a pile of trash bags that sent her vanishing from sight while he turned his attention to the newcomers.

Although the men in black were dressed like ninjas, their target was obviously the more skilled one with martial arts. Two attackers were quickly dispatched, one with what appeared to be a debilitating knee injury. Three others then jumped into the fray, two brandishing stun batons that, when touched to the fighter's skin, rendered him unconscious. The third in that posse wrapped a black hood over the fighter's head and then helped in throw him into the van while the remainder of the posse helped drag their beaten colleagues back into the van as well. From the limpness of their prisoner's form, he was oblivious to what was happening. Unconcerned by the brief but violent melee, the hover drone simply continued down the street in search of a chargeable infraction that would line the city coffers with payment from fines.

"Pro job," Logan observed, nodding as he admired their efficiency.

"There's nothing useable on that," Max shook her head. "I can't identify anyone or the van."

"Well, it's not nothing," Logan said. "I think we can agree that those are soldiers, or former soldiers, and that is Alec they grabbed. It confirms Original Cindy's story."

"Yeah, but," Max charged, pointing at the grainy footage on the screen, "no faces, no identifying tags on the van. Can you follow it out of the area to see where it went?"

"No," Logan shook his head. "The traffic cams in that area were down for maintenance. As soon as the van turns the corner, it drops into a dead zone. It could have gone to any one of a dozen side streets; they could have ditched the van and picked up another car. Tracking it is a dead end, Max. I'm sorry."

"Well, we know they weren't just muggers," she asserted with some emphasis. "It's not much, but I guess it narrows the field somewhat. Someone hired muscle for this."

"One of Alec's little deals gone sideways?" Logan wondered.

Max shrugged. She was not clear on what black market activities he was active with at this time. He always had a contact or two in the underbelly of Seattle. He knew arms dealers and drug dealers and thieves and thugs. He knew fences and other brokers of pilfered materials both high and low end. Max did not judge him harshly for that. They were contacts. They were necessary sometimes. She had some of her own, although she stayed away from that as much as possible. Still, Alec was an operative and quickly putting together a network of people who knew how to get around the laws and the rules of public society was a requirement when functioning in enemy territory; Seattle certainly qualified as that where the Manticore escapees were concerned.

"I don't think so," Max said. "The kind of guys he deals with aren't the type to grab him if they're displeased. If they were mad enough to send a squad, it would be a hit squad not a grab team."

"And once he was down, there was no reason not to put a bullet in the back of his head unless they didn't want him dead," Logan nodded, following her logic. "But it's been nearly three days. What do they want?"

"Got me," Max shrugged. "If they took him as some sort of leverage, why didn't they go after OC, too? They clearly saw her. They just left her. Something doesn't add up."

That was bad news. That meant they were not looking to run an extortion play. These guys were not looking to gain anything or force people to give up something to secure Alec's release. That also contained a hint of good news. A search of all morgue, police and hospital databases did not reveal any bodies meeting Alec's description. Both Max and Logan were agreed that any body discovered that had a barcode at the base of the neck would have made it into either the federal or sector police database.

The bodies that the authorities did hold were another matter. Max was unwilling to let her comrades go off to be dissected like experiments in a high school biology class. They deserved better than that. They deserved funerals, except any service held would put the mourners at risk—assuming there were any mourners still left. Considering what Max knew about those missing transgenics and transhumans, attendance would be low. She suspected Cactus, Zero, Bullet, and Bugler got out. They were noticeably absent from the morgue roll call; they were also supposed to be off security duty in the command center the night of the invasion. They may have been in another building and found a way to one of the escape routes. So far, there was still no evidence there were any prisoners.

The lack of detainees led Max and Logan to suspect this was not a sector police or military action. That left one highly likely candidate: The Familiars. The breeding cult had infiltrated the government and the military. They could easily have plotted, planned and executed the raid while keeping the authorities in the dark, while at the same time using their intel.

There was no way to confirm this; they were not claiming credit, but the befuddlement of recognized authorizes spoke volumes. One surely unintended consequence was the swell of public outrage over a late night incursion that took the life of so many. Details leaked regarding some of the fallen (like Gem and her infant) enraged many and had them calling for an inquiry into those allegedly protecting Seattle from the "menace" dwelling within Terminal City. Information being released to satisfy the public's demand to know how and why their city was rocked by this raid was beginning to paint the Terminal City residents as innocents with the reigning authorities being the ones wearing black hats. That might have been a calculated side effect on the part of the Familiars. If they could further manipulate the oversight and maneuver their preferred people into seats of power, they surely would.

Not that Max cared much about that front. She just wanted to know where her friends where. Logan could follow the trail of deception and subterfuge. So while he dug for those answers, she was planning a raid of her own: on the transport taking the bodies from Seattle to an undisclosed military facility for study.

"Any chance this is something from one of his Manticore operations come back to bite him?" Logan asked. "These guys look like they're military. Maybe someone with a score to settle."

Max shrugged, but she doubted it. If that was the case, payback would have been a bullet to the head. Alec was no longer a Manticore operative and, as far as Max knew, most of the Manticore operations were still classified. Foreign governments (or even foreign agents) did not hold grudges or go looking for lone assassins.

"What do you know about Alec's history for Manticore?" Logan asked.

"Not much," Max replied. "He worked in Afghanistan and Russia. He spent some time in the Middle East and Europe. He mentioned Australia, too."

"For not knowing much, you seem to have a lot of locations," Logan noted.

"Yeah, well, Alec likes to talk," Max explained, remembering the nights leading up to the BioCorp conference in which he kept her company (and mostly distracted) with his incessant rambling. "A lot."

"I'm aware, but usually it's about his lastest score or plans for one" Logan scoffed. "When did he start spilling details on the covert missions he pretends never happened? He forget what the word covert entails?"

"It's not like he was telling everyone," Max explained. "He just… He told me… things. Look, sometimes he gets… Never mind. He told me because… he did."

"Bragging?" Logan wondered. "To what end? So you'd make him your second in charge? He didn't think a year of scheming and scamming and making himself generally the least trustworthy person you knew was going to be a bit of a speed bump?"

"That wasn't what he was trying to do," Max rolled her eyes. He had been doing it as part of his campaign to hit on her, she knew.

"Then what was the point?" Logan asked curiously. "He have another motivation?"

"You'd have to ask him," Max said evasively.

"Max?" Logan asked. "What's going on? Or, should I say, is something going on?"

"Yeah, my friends are dead or missing," she snapped.

Logan sighed. He was tired as well. Max was on edge, but she had been since before she knew about the attack on Terminal City. Logan chose to ignore that point, but he could not forget it. There was a chance that her agitation was simply a new phase of grief over the loss of so many, and knowing Alec was likely in enemy hands surely didn't help. Still, some part of Logan felt a pang of jealousy when he sensed the prickly vibe he got from Max anytime Alec was mentioned. It was different now than when her fellow transgenic used to get her riled.

"I know," Logan nodded. "I just meant, is there some other reason Alec was getting chatty? Maybe that's a clue to who grabbed him."

"Oh," Max shook her head. "I don't think so. It's simpler than some big conspiracy. It's just Alec. He gets lonely."

That was true, she knew. Simply staving off that crushing feeling of friendless abandonment was one of his motivations. Logan, however, didn't find that logical. He scoffed his disbelief.

"Alec gets lonely?" Logan repeated doubtfully. "He's always in the middle of something; he has people around him: girls and members of his little gang of thieves and thugs and lackeys. He is never alone."

Max shook her head. Until that moment, she considered Logan one of the most observant people she knew. He was not easily taken in by facades nor easily distracted by smokescreens, yet somehow Alec had done so. Alec, whose motives and actions were usually considered suspicious by Max, had managed to hid his true self in plain sight from someone as astute as Logan. She wondered how she managed to see through it, then realized it was because Alec wanted it that way. The man who trusted no one, the man who hid who he was inside, opened up to her.

"Alone and lonely are two different things," Max said, knowing precisely how both felt.

**# # # #**

Alec coughed then spit blood on the floor. That helped him confirm what he suspected when he first realized he was conscious: He was hanging right side up at that moment. He wasn't always sure what direction was up or down as they kept changing it on him and his equilibrium was growing confused. He wasn't sure of direction or time. Whether it was daylight or nighttime was a mystery. He was restrained at the wrists with his arms pulled high over his head. Another metal band pinned him just below his sternum. His legs were splayed and straps held his ankles so tightly they were cutting off circulation to his feet. He found it an odd approach to torture that he was clothed. Stripping the prisoner naked was like 101 level for breaking a prisoner. It rendered them vulnerable with no effort on the part of the torturer. It was then that he noted the heavy, damp feeling he got from the clothing. He was soaked. He had not noticed it immediately (which alarmed him as it meant not all his senses were firing information back to his brain quickly or properly). As he registered the wetness of his clothing, he realized how cold he felt. This bone deep chill was a new sensation—one he found exponentially unpleasant as it only compounded the other pains he felt across his body.

Previously, Alec thought he knew what pain was. He'd had joints dislocated and bones broken; he'd even been shot before, but none of those (not even all combined) felt the nauseating pain he felt anytime he was awake. Unlike in the past with those injuries, Alec's body wasn't bouncing back the way it usually did. Jagged ends of broken bone dug into raw nerve in his lower leg and at his collarbone. Scorched skin from prods by the stun batons burned. His left eye was swollen shut and his lips felt fat and rubbery. His ribs and lungs protested with each breath.

He had suffered beatings in the past, the worst at the hands of the guards at Manticore as part of their "training." They were brutish thugs who disciplined through fear and intimidation. They were not stronger or faster than their charges so they needed to instill fear so the children would listen to them and follow orders without question. Alec withstood those sessions, learning each time how to play the game and learn his handlers' weaknesses. There was no point in retaliating physically then or now. He was bound tightly and his injuries nullified the physical skills he did possess. The injuries were compounded by the injections Renfro had proscribed and that were jabbed into him every so often. Alec wasn't sure what she was doing to him, but he knew he was not healing as he would. The blows the guards landed were doing more damage than they should have. She had threatened to make him ' a real boy.' He wasn't aware of any technology that could turn him into an Ordinary, but the science side of Manticore was never his specialty.

He looked at his captor through is one functioning eye and felt a surge of hate race through him. Renfro, who always seemed to be there whenever he opened his eyes, was there yet again and looked at him with a bored expression. She sat in a folding chair a few feet from him with one leg crossed over the other and her arms folded. She did this for what seemed like hours during every session. How long the sessions were, Alec did not know. Whether they happened once per day or several times a day was also a mystery. The greater mystery to Alec was the point of the sessions, or rather, the lack of a point.

There was no questioning or interrogation.

He expected to be tortured for information, but Renfro rarely spoke other than to jab at him mentally. She never asked what he knew about other Manticore escapees or Eyes Only. She never asked where he had been since he flew from the nest. She just sat there and watched while her brutes took turns making him scream and eventually pass out. That further stoked his rage, prompting him to lash out at her.

"Just so we're clear," Alec said hoarsely as he gasped for breath as his teeth chattered. "I'm going to rip out your heart as I break free."

"Pointless threat," Renfro yawned in response.

"Right, I forgot," Alec replied. "You're the world's only living heart donor. I guess I'll just snap your fucking neck instead."

She clucked her tongue as she sat with her legs crossed and her arms folded as if she was waiting for a a pointless meeting to begin.

"Tough talk for someone who's couldn't even stand if I ordered the guards to unchain you," she said. "Hell, the hypothermia is going to kill you without anyone here laying another hand on you."

"Make a bet?" Alec challenged. "Try me."

"You have no fight left in you other than what's in the tongue in your mouth," Renfro scoffed. "Not that there was much when you got here. You're empty inside, 494. You're used up. It amazes me you've lasted this long. I mean, if my life was so worthless, I'm not sure I'd want to go on."

"I've got a pretty good life, thanks, lady," Alec coughed. "Sorry, I mean, bitch."

"That always was your greatest flaw, this incessant urge to talk," Renfro groaned then grinned widely. "Remember the fun your instructors used to have, smacking the smart ass out of your mouth? Oh, I do. Know what still gives me a chuckle: the surgical glue."

She cackled loudly. It bounced off the concrete walls and echoed loudly in his already pounding head.

"I bet you remember how it tasted," she smiled delightedly. "I'll admit, using it on you lacked elegance, but it certainly made your morning run a lot quieter that day, didn't it? You know, the team would conference each week and go over all our creatures' progress. There was always a good laugh over you—at your expense, of course—but never more than after that. Even the medical team was reluctant to use the solvent on you; they thought it was a stroke of brilliance and wished they'd done it to you long before. I mean, face it, it's not like we endowed you with the most intelligence of the group—some of the least in fact in my opinion—but there you were, bubbling over with attitude and lip like anything in your head was worth hearing. You know, I should apologize for how we failed you. I think, maybe, if we'd had better intellectual material to start with, we could have turned you into something. It's a shame really, but that's also why it doesn't surprise me 452 was able to manipulate you so easily."

"Her name is Max," Alec protested and thought to himself: _And she'll kill you if she gets here before I get unchained._

"Oh, right, Max," Renfro rolled her eyes. "Your friend. Some friend. You're here all this time and she's hasn't even looked for you once. Not that it surprises me. She's too smart to think she needs you to help her. So what is your relationship with her again? She keep you around to scratch her itches? You're her plaything? Frankly, I was surprised you were shacking up during your holiday in the mountains. She's always been partial to much smarter and more capable partners. I hate to break it to you, but I guess the fact that she's not sending in the troops to rescue you means only one thing: You're apparently not all that good in the sack."

"Never had any complaints," Alec said.

"Never stuck around to hear them, I'll bet," Renfro replied. "Obviously, Max wasn't all that impressed. If she was, you would think she'd miss you or at least look for you."

"Haven't been gone that long," Alec said with more confidence than he felt.

"You don't think four weeks is long enough to come looking for you?" Renfro shrugged. "You'd think after that much time she might have at least noticed you weren't around."

"Lie," Alec rasped. "It hasn't been that long."

"If you say so," she taunted as she stood and stroked his cheek with her finger. "You know, I'll bet she fooled you into thinking she trusted you and valued your support. Oh, that's just sad. I had more faith in you. Or maybe I just had a soft spot for you. You were always my favorite, 494."

"You say that kind of pervy, even for a cold-hearted bitch," Alec said as his skin began to crawl.

Alec kept his chin up and his eyes forward. The cuffs binding his arms over his head were tight, cutting into the skin. He was hung by them from the ceiling; the restraints on his ankles kept him from being able to swing or gain any leverage. For all of his threats, Alec knew walking was not possible and certainly running was off the table as well. He doubted his ability to kick or punching. He might be able to manage a head butt if his target drew near enough, but no one seemed foolish enough for that. Besides, he reminded himself, all that would do is inflict an injury. It wouldn't help him escape. Fighting in impaired situations was in his repertoire, but Alec needed to be strategic about it. There were too many unknowns at the moment to formulate a plan.

Assuming Renfro was lying—and why wouldn't she be—help was surely on the way. Max would find him. Original Cindy would have told her what happened. Logan would hack the hover drone's video database. They would have followed the van using traffic cams and then sent in recon teams. Mole would be gearing up the troops. The extraction team would be storming the castle soon. They were a team now; just like Max preached. They looked out for each other. They wouldn't leave him defenseless in the clutches of this psycho much longer.

"Oh, is that hope I see fading in your eyes?" Renfro chuckled and stroked his cheek again. "Or, eye, I guess I should say. I think that left one isn't gonna make it, kido. Shame. Those pretty green eyes were one of the few things you had going for you. Nasty thing that inhibitor I've pumped into your veins. It's hard to live like a human when you need all your super powers to heal, isn't it? Well, don't worry, 494. There isn't much time left for me to enjoy your suffering. That really is the biggest problem with sapping all your super-genetic powers: the body fails so quickly sometimes."

"You're not going to kill me," Alec rasped. "You've kept me alive for a reason. You still need me for something."

"Correction," Renfro said, picking mercilessly at a spot of blacked and burned-crispy skin on his side. "I needed you. Now, I'm just waiting for you to die because I find your slow demise entertaining. You've proven useless for every other task I had for you. Don't disappoint me again, 494."

"Let me go," he said. "I may surprise you."

"Not a chance," she shook her head and laughed. "You could never pick your moments; you don't have the ability to see beyond your momentary needs. So impatient. You never learned to appreciate letting a moment run its course or taking your time. Sometimes, 494, you just need to relax and let the moment happen without forcing them."

She ran her hand along his side. Besides feeling his flesh crawl at her touch, he winced as she pressed down along one of his broken ribs.

"No, go, tell, bad touch," Alec offered in a pained and breathless voice. "I know the drill, but sorry, like I said you're not my type, bitch."

The guard standing in Alec's blindside thrust the butt of his gun into his abdomen. Alec lurked forward as much as his restraints would allow and choked out a muffled gasp. He winced as the muscles in his side continued to contract from the blow but were stretched in the opposite direction by the force of his restraints. The pain seared in his side, letting him know there was tearing of some muscles, but he forced himself to take controlled breaths so that he would not pass out again.

"Now, 452, there is a true masterpiece," Renfro said. "You should consider yourself fortunate you got to work with her at all. We considered moving her into your ward—training her completely as a solo operative, but we didn't get the chance. Between you and me, I failed in not seeing her true talents sooner. I always thought she should have been the leader in her group, not 599—her so called brother, Zac. He was strong and certainly capable, but that only goes so far when you have a unit full of alphas. Not that you would know, am I right? Leadership was never your strong point. I guess we put a little too much of the scavenger in your particular blend. Steal what you can get then run away, that's your specialty. Stick with the pack only so long as it serves you and then run off. Wouldn't surprise me if that's what 452 thinks you did. She doesn't trust you—you've never given her any reason to, have you? She sees through you; sees the real you. That puts her one up on me. I didn't trust my instincts where you were concern. I should have called it right now. You were a mistake from the start. I did warn them, you know, when they showed us the outline of your profiles. That one, I said, that one might not cut it."

Alec kept his eyes forward not responding to the taunt. He had been through two rounds in Psy-Ops at Manticore. A little verbal baiting from bitch like Renfro wasn't going to spike his pulse any.

"I should have been more forceful and said you wouldn't cut it because, in the end, I was right," she continued. "That brother of yours… talk about an unfortunate accident; too sensitive, too weak; too crazy. I could see the cracks in his armor when he was still at the facility. I was actually suggesting him to be reviewed for possible euthanization and dissected for study before they ran off. I was surprised the others let him tag along when they made a break for it. Too much unit loyalty, I guess. A victim of our success in creating a cohesive unit, you might say. You were lucky. His escape gave you a chance. If we had known he was all coo-coo salad brains on the inside before we could see what you were like, we'd have snuffed you, too."

Alec never knew Ben, X-493, but hearing her speak of him stoked his anger. They were brothers in a technical sense. Alec wasn't one who felt a familial attachment usually. He did not like to see transgenics harmed; he had even developed a respect and friendship for some transhumans. He felt self-conscious about his feelings for Ben. He was a brother to Max and his actions (and ultimately his death) had influenced and (at times) poisoned her thoughts toward Alec himself. That aside, Renfro's manic and sadistic training programs were part of what drove Ben to become a monster. She was the one most responsible for the damage he did and his death.

"I am going to kill you," Alec said in a hoarse, barely audible voice. "I don't know how or when, but just know, that I am going to do it. I was on the fence about whether I would only do it if the opportunity presented itself. Changed my mind. I'm doing it, even if it is the last thing I do."

**# # # #**

Logan squinted into the bright sunshine. That was one thing he did prefer about most cities over Seattle: the sun. It did shine in Seattle, just not for long or all that often. The climate was mild and he didn't mind the fog and the rain, until he found himself somewhere that those things were the exception rather than the norm.

He was in the nation's capital to work some backrooms with his contacts to see what, if anything, was going to happen to the breeding cult and what the government's intentions were if they were to discover any Manticore escapees still alive. It was slow going. No one wanted to talk; no one would even go off the record at first until he received the email.

Logan received the first one, a heavily encrypted missive, not long after he arrived in DC. The message had been sent three weeks earlier; however, his trip across the country was slow. Trains were the most reliable way to travel, but the lines were not well maintained so there were no direct routes. His itinerary had him zigzagged across the country to catch the next train heading east. Then he needed to meet up with his colleagues on the InformantNet. After that, he needed to break the encryption on the message.

When he finally got it open, he was stunned.

He stared into the battered and bloody face of Alec McDowell as he was beaten mercilessly by hooded thugs. At the end of the video, there was a simple message: Coordinates to follow.

Who sent the message, whether they were friend or foe, Logan did not know. He spent a few days trying to back trace the message. He had no luck. He tried looking for other clues in the video for a time or a location or anyone who was in it, other than Alec. The torture was gut-wrenching to watch. Logan cringed in sympathy of him each time he watched it. He did not generally like Alec, but he didn't wish the guy this kind of agony. It was that realization that struck Logan as the true value of the video.

He showed it to several of his contacts in DC. They reacted as he did. They were sickened and appalled. He played it for them several times, leaving Alec appearing a martyr by the end. That got movement and discussions going.

When the next messages made it to Logan, he was quick to jump on them. The encryption wasn't as tight, but there was something wrong with the feed. There were only flashes of images and garbled audio. The message that claimed to have coordinates was simply unreadable. It had a virus trailing on the end of it, wiping the data within the message clean. Logan was suspicious about the damage to the subsequent messages. It made him believe that whoever sent the original messages was attempting to help. However, someone was onto his cyber deep throat and was trying to sabotage the messages.

**# # # #**

Max paced the living room. She was ready to jump out of her skin. Weeks trapped inside were taking their toll. Logan left weeks earlier for the other side of the country in search of answers and help. He contacted her a few times each week to report there was little or no movement on either front, but he still remained hopeful. He wouldn't say why until his last call.

Max was infuriated to learn Logan had been receiving tips from an unknown source on Alec the entire time Logan was away from Seattle. He had resisted letting her see the clips, but after threatening to march into City Hall and accuse the Mayor face-to-face during his weekly press conference of being responsible for everything from the attack on TC to the Pulse itself, Logan relented and relayed the video snippets to her.

Watching anyone be tortured made Max feel sick. She never enjoyed the pain people could inflict on each other simply out of creativity and viciousness. Seeing someone she knew and had feelings for (convoluted and confusing though they were) turned her stomach sour and made her want to vomit.

It was unclear how old the video was. Alec looked withered. His skin was pale and papery looking. There were hollows in his cheeks (in the places where there were sickening bruises). The damage to his face was colossal. Blood oozed from a large pocket under one eye and his jaw appeared off center; although, whether that was due to a broken mandible or simply swelling from the other injuries wasn't apparent. Max found herself fighting tears and nausea as she watched the short clip. She could feel rage boiling in her unsettled stomach. Her anger with whoever was doing this was unfathomable. Her anger at Logan was less, but he was the one who bore the brunt of her ire.

"I didn't tell you because I thought it was best not to," Logan explained wearily. "Max, there is nothing in those clips that helps us find him. I need to finish back tracing whoever sent those to me. That's what we need to know. Look, whoever sent those is trying to help. I just got the last one yesterday. That tells me that Alec is still alive. Whoever is sending these is doing whatever he can to see that he stays that way. The problem is whoever is sabotaging the transmission. My informant is in trouble, too. As soon as I know something useful, I will let you know."

"Useful?" Max repeated. "Useful like what? Like the fact Alec is alive?"

"Does seeing him getting beaten help you any?" Logan asked aggressively.

Max hung her head. It didn't. In fact, it made things worse having her fears confirmed. Logan could see that confession on her face.

"I know this is hard," Logan said. "Now, I know doing nothing is not your style, but it's not safe for you to start doing a clean sweep of Seattle or anywhere. The tempers over Manticore are down to a simmer now, but that doesn't mean they won't boil again soon. Don't do something stupid like march into a room full of reporters just to pick a fight because you can't find your patience."

Max took the scolding in silence. She knew the Mayor had nothing to do with TC or Alec, but she wanted to be attacked so she could have a reason to hit someone, hard. All these weeks of hiding and waiting was eating her alive. The sheer confinement was maddening. She could feel her muscles atrophying. Where once there was a wiry, strong frame she now felt frail and an weak. She yearned to just run through the city, feeling her lungs burn with exertion as her limbs did the same from turning her into a blur as she moved swiftly through the streets. She wanted to climb to the top of the Space Needle and look down on the city like she was sitting on a cloud removed from all the filth and chaos.

But she didn't. She couldn't. Logan was right. Doing so would risk capture or death. There was one thing about which Logan was mistake. Knowing Alec was alive was a reason to keep going. He might be in pain and suffering greatly, but if he was a live, it was a reason for Max to hang on a little longer.

She cut off her call to Logan with a promise to stay put. No sooner had she cut the connection when her ears picked up the sound of boots on the floor in the hallway. Max cautiously stepped into the center of the room, wondering if Logan had sent someone to babysit her to make sure she kept her word (although who he knew that was capable containing her was a mystery).

When her visitor stepped into view, Max took a reflexive step backward.

"Getting skittish, Max?" the man remarked. "That's not like you."

Max stared into the unreadable eyes of Colonel Donald Lydecker. There was a large scar going from his temple to his chin. His cheek on that side looked slightly off as well, as if he had reconstructive surgery that didn't go well. She reminded herself that his vehicle was pulled from the water and showed signs of a mighty crash. Apparently, he did not walk away from it unscathed. She looked at him with surprise and a touch of fear.

"What are you doing here?" Max asked.

"Delivering a warning," he said. "You and your boyfriend need to stop looking for X5-494."

"Alec," she said instantly. "He has a name. It's Alec."

"Alec?" Lydecker repeated then nodded. "Your outside name for him? Fine, then. You need to stop looking for Alec."

"No," she said. "He's still alive and if you have him so help me, I will…"

"Max," he ordered, "I know you don't follow my orders, but listen to me. You have to stop."

"Finding him is my business," she insisted. "What do you know about who's holding him?"

"Everything," Lydecker insisted. "Breaking him out is my business. Any time that bitch gets a hold of one of my kids, it's my business."

"Who?" she asked.

"Elizabeth Renfro," Lydecker replied. "I let her destroy too many of my kids already. I'm not letting her do it again."

"Yeah, great dad you turned out to be," Max scoffed. "What do you know about Alec?"

"I told you, everything," Lydecker replied. "Well, nearly everything. At least about the first 22 years of his life anyway."

"I thought you spent your time looking for me and Zac and the others," she replied. "You knew Alec at Manticore?"

"I knew all my kids," he said. "My team tried to track you and your siblings down, but there weren't a lot of leads so I spent the rest of my time at Manticore, overseeing the development and training of the X-5's."

"And you know Alec because…," she asked.

"Because 494 is one of my kids, just like you, and I know all of my kids," Lydecker said.

"We're not your kids," Max said disgustedly, the sick vapors from her stomach rolling into her mouth again.

"Well, to me, you all are," Lydecker said. "Four nine four was one of my success stories, or so I thought. Manticore damaged him when they put him on the Berrisford job. They didn't listen to me. It was well within his skill set, but they were sloppy and careless. They never understood what made 494 tick."

"Call him Alec," Max said tensely.

"Fine, Alec," Lydecker shook his head. "Let me guess, the name is your doing?"

"Everyone deserves a name," Max nodded.

"Alec?" Lydecker said then nodded. "Let me guess, for smart alec? Yeah, I can see that. He always had a lip on him."

The colonel nodded and offered the hints of a pleased smile. Max stared back at him oddly. He seemed proud, but she could not discern why. Her mind was thrust back two years earlier to meeting then X5-494. It seemed so long ago, a lifetime practically, yet it was not that long at all. Then, she wanted nothing but to be as far from her "breeding partner" as possible. Now, there wasn't much she wouldn't give to have him back. Max shook her head as she again felt dizzy with the memories of the demise of Manticore and Terminal City spinning and crashing through her mind.

"What do you know about Alec right now?" she asked, shoving her feeling aside and focusing on Lydecker.

"You okay, Max?" Lydecker asked, reaching forward to touch her arm. "You seem jumpy."

Max wheeled around and ripped her arm from his grasp. Lack of sleep, nearly as little food and a constant state of anxiety was wearing thin on her. She still held anger in her toward Logan that needed some place to vent along with her pent up feelings of claustrophobia from being imprisoned by her agreed-upon house arrest. Anyone in front of her seemed like a good target and Lydecker was no exception. She glared at him with daggers in her eyes. She did not need to threaten him verbally. He read her mood and reaction accurately and stepped back with his hands held up in a submissive pose.

"Tell me what you know about Alec's whereabouts right now," she demanded. "Or I swear I will kill you."

"He's being held just outside Seattle," Lydecker reported. "My team has narrowed down the location finally. They've kept him at one of their facilities since the night he was jumped by Renfro's elite squad."

"Renfro?" Max shook her head. "Check your sources, or better yet, get new ones. She's dead. I was with her when she was shot."

"You were, but she didn't die," he replied. "One of the guards pulled her out before the facility burned or she bled out. She had a variety of little personal squads imbedded into the guard corps. They got her some immediate attention then got her out of the country to her benefactors. That took me a while to turn up, but I did. I found her. Alive and kicking, well, limping, when she made it back into the U.S. from her stint in Toronto."

"Knew there was a down-side to socialized medicine," Max shook her head. "So she's alive. What's her deal? She's putting the band back together and trying to rebuild Manticore?"

"No," he shook his head. "She's got other orders from her benefactors. We think it's a French industrialist who is interested in starting his own program, I think. She grabbed Alec, as far as I can tell, to get to you."

"Me?" Max asked.

"You don't leave your people behind," he said proudly. "It's your greatest leadership trait and your greatest weakness. So, four nine…uh, Alec is one of yours. She's been expecting you to go after him."

"I would, but I can't find him," she said. "Logan thinks there's a traitor in the ranks of whoever is holding Alec. He keeps getting snippets of video showing Alec. He's being tortured. I mean, he was, if the video is recent."

"I know, and it is," Lydecker replied.

"Well, then you know, there's something wrong with the transfer because Logan can't get a lock on the location and we can't pull any real details out of the video or audio records," Max reported. "You have any idea how we can fix that?"

"Yes and no I'm not telling you how," Lydecker said. "I've made sure Cale isn't getting the whole transmission. I need you to stay out of this, Max. I've been blocking and degrading the transmissions for a reason."

"You what?" she shouted and grabbed Lydecker by the throat and pinned him to the wall. "You've been interfering? Why?!"

"For your own good," he said. "Max, you're the one she wants. She doesn't care about Alec. He's pawn in her game. She knows you'll come after him. The information is being leaked on her orders; she's hoping you would put her clues together and find him. I had to be certain I found him first; I didn't need you or Cale complicating my mission so I intercepted those transmission and deleted what I could. Unfortunately, some of it always got through."

"Why would you do that?" she seethed and pushed him harder into the wall.

"I needed time to find him myself," he said as his face turned red under her pressure. "If you couldn't find him, you couldn't go after him. I did it to save you, Max."

"What about Alec?" she shouted, slamming her free hand hard into the wall by his head. "She's torturing him! Has been this whole time! She's killing him!"

"He's a tough," Lydecker said breathlessly. "He can take it. Max, I had to be certain I found him first. Now, I have. I'm going to go after him myself."

"I don't believe you," she said.

"Trust me, Max," he said. "I won't let her hurt any more of you. I thought all of her back door dealing and plans were over until I found out she was alive. Then tracked her back here. I thought she was going after you—and I was right. I just didn't think she'd do this."

"Well, she has," Max said, her head reeling.

She felt dizzy and nauseous again as she thought of Alec's screaming from the last video clip. His voice was extremely hoarse and barely able to make any sound, but the choking rasp that he could emit spoke of pain she could not imagine. She forced herself to take slow, steady breaths.

"I know and I'm sorry," he said. "I am, Max. He's one of mine; I'm taking this personally. After what she did to Tinga and to Zac, I'm not letting her kill another one of you."

"No, instead, you've let her torture Alec for three months," she said. "Way to go with the compassion and protection."

"He can take it," he assured her. "He's been through worse from her before; this is all just physical damage. She doesn't have the equipment to torture like she did at Manticore. He's stronger than when he was at Manticore and he survived her reindoctrination program. He can make it through this."

"Not if she just kills him," Max replied letting Lydecker go.

"She won't," he shook his head. "She needs him alive, as bait for you. We're using that to our advantage."

"Our advantage?" she asked. "I thought you were going to wait until we stopped looking."

"Multiple plans on the table, all working at the same time," he said. "I've tracked her down, and I know the security on the building."

"How?" Max asked. "I thought you were dead? Now you've got your own army and intel division?"

"I, too, have a benefactor," Lydecker said. "I knew, once I learned about the breeding cult, that this was bigger than the military simply wanting more efficient soldiers. I went to find the help we'd need to… to survive. All of us."

Max shook her head, trying to understand his half-spoken explanation. It didn't make sense. He was in cahoots with someone who knew more than she did about the cult? What other plans did the Manticore project have and who else could possibly know them?

"Who is helping you?" she asked.

"I need your promise that you will let me do this without you," Lydecker said without answering. Max shook her head. "I meant it, Max. No following. No trying to jump in and get him yourself. You need to stay out of this. You have my word that I'll get him out."

"And your word is supposed to mean what to me?" she asked. "See, I notice that you never said you'd break Alec back alive."

"If I can, I will," he replied. "Either way, I won't leave him behind. Like I said, I won't let her use my kids again."

"No," Max shook her head firmly and folded her arms defiantly.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Lydecker sighed then reached into his pocket and swiftly pressed the prongs of his stun gun into her neck.

Max yelped then collapsed on the floor.

**# # # #**

Max woke on the floor with her wrists chained individually to the pipes of the heavy, iron radiator near the window in the kitchen. She struggled against the restraints.

They would not give. She worked, digging one of the cuffs so deeply into her wrist that it began to bleed. Using the ooze a lubricant, she was able to slip one hand free of the locking bracelet, but the other held fast. Admitting defeat and giving in to exhaustions, she turned her attention to the burning spot on the left side of her neck where it met her shoulder and collarbone as well as to the raised lump on the back of her head. When Lydecker tased her, he obviously did not attempt to catch her before she fell.

She shook her head and felt woozie and parched.

_Bastard_, she thought looking around for any other provisions . Seeing none, she was left to conclude that he intended to return at some point. For his own twisted reasons and logic, Lydecker did care about Max, she knew. She did not like knowing he had tossed a bit of his dead wife's DNA in her cocktail simply so he could again see the dead woman's eyes; however, that was also what kept the defunct colonel from killing her usually.

Rather than wait to be certain he would return, she fixed her attention on the bolts holding the radiator to the floor. There were old and rusty. It would have been easier with a tool, but not having one meant she needed to do it the old-fashioned, stubborn, Manticore way: Use her hands.

It was tedious and painful work. Her nails, never in good shape to begin with, cracked and snapped and broke below the skin resulting in bleeding. The knuckles got skinned and raw patches began to grow. The rust around the old bolts seeped into the cuts; thankfully, Manticore made Tetanus something she never needed to worry about. Still, the process further exhausted her.

In the back of her mind, this worried her much the way her desire to sleep recently did. Logan felt it was stress. She was still pummeling herself over the attack on Terminal City and the blame she was ladling over herself was eroding her stamina. She could not precisely argue with that. She would spend hours pacing the house, trying to think of where her friends might have gone or why they had not tried to contact her after so many weeks. The most and logical obvious answer was they were dead.

That led to Logan's other theory about her: She was depressed.

Again, feeling as she did, ready to scream or fight or simply fall to tears with nearly no provocation some days seemed to fit that bill. In her 20 plus years of life, Max had been through a lot. Becoming homeless just before reaching the teen years, running for her life from that age until (well, she reminded herself, she was still on the run) now. Add to that having lost the people she was supposed to protect, the people who trusted her most, and it wasn't surprising she was beginning to crack up. When she could no longer fight the oppressive urge to collapse on the sofa to sleep (she simply couldn't share a room or a bed with Logan; he said he understood). When unconsciousness came, it was always the same dreams: Arriving at TC to find everyone dead or dying and blaming her. The only thing different in that dream from the first one she had after the attack was that Alec was not there. She found it ironic that, when she finally wouldn't mind a brief sleeping visit from him, he was gone. It was bad enough that he was gone for real but now even her imagination could not conjure him.

She felt an ache in her chest at the thought. It was a sinking feeling that pulled her down into the mire of her fatigue and her weary and loss-filled feelings. Max wondered how much more would it take before this damage from her unrelenting case of the blues became more than an aggravation and tipped headfirst in to irrecoverable.

She sniffled at the thought and realized that she was again crying. She dragged her hand roughly and disgustedly across her face. She told herself to pull it together and work on the bolts, stoking her anger to give her a bit more stamina, but then stopped as her eats heard a creaking sound from the front of the house.

It surely wasn't Logan. He was 3000 miles away in Washington. OC did not come to the house after dark for safety reasons. That left only intruders; whether they were thieves in search of an easy score, squatters looking for a new flophouse or something infinitely more sinister, Max did not know. What she was certain of was that being chained to a radiator did not improve her situation.

She frantically began jerking on the remaining handcuff and wondered if her animal DNA might prompt her to chew her wrist off to free herself from the trap if her anxiety feelings ratcheted up any more. The ministrations on her mini prison gave away her position as she heard heavy footfalls approaching. Max turned a wild and worried expression toward the darkened door to the next room when the void was filled by the shadow cast by a man of immense size. Her heart threatened to leap from her chest until she was able to discern her face and then hear his voice from the gloomy darkness.

"All locked up, Little Fellah?" Joshua asked then knelt beside her.

"Joshua!" Max yelped and threw her free arm around his neck and hugged him tightly. "You're alive."

"Alive," Joshua agreed, hugging her back gratefully. "Dirty, too."

It was then Max noticed the damp feel of his clothes and the dank odor that clung to them.

"Where have you been?" she asked, turning up her nose slightly as the pungent aroma made her stomach turn sour and made her gag.

"Many places," Joshua nodded. "Not safe anywhere. Came here; Dix said here is safe for now."

"Dix?" Max gasped and felt a flutter in her chest. "You and Dix got out? Who else?"

Joshua looked at her sadly. The news he delivered was grim. Cactus escaped and was teamed up with Dix and Joshua. Pride and Bugler got out as well; the medic and the child fled the city together the morning of the attack. Where they ended up, he did not know. He knew only that they braved the frigid waters of Puget Sound in their escape. They said they were heading to Canada. Whether they made it was unknown. The lack of floating bodies found and reported to have barcodes was a glimmer of good news, but that didn't mean they weren't fish food.

"Alec survived sinking ship," Joshua offered, seeing her momentary elation falter. "Pride and Bugler probably okay, too."

"Maybe," Max nodded then touched his face, petting him gently as waves of energy raced through her bones again.

"Dix still hiding near the port—old ships and warehouses," Joshua said. "Cactus with us sometimes. We move. A lot."

"Well, I'm glad to see you, Big Fellah," Max said and felt tears welling up in her eyes again. "What took you so long to get here? It's been weeks."

"Not safe; had to lay low," he shook his head. "Why you chained up? Logan not trust you?"

"Lydecker," she said, speaking as if it was a curse word.

"Nice Colonel," Joshua nodded.

"Nice?" Max repeated. "You sure you know who I'm talking about?"

"Colonel Donald Lydecker," Joshua nodded. "Friend of Father's. Good friend. Gentle to Nomalies. Nice to Joshua."

"Yeah, well, he chased me like a… animal control officer for a decade," she shook her head. "He chained me to this."

Joshua cocked his head to the side then placed both hands on the radiator and gave it a quick heave. It came away from the floor, pulling the pipe from the basement up several inches as well. Max slipped the cuffs from the metal and freed herself. Joshua then raced to the basement and returned with a simple metal file. Over the next half-hour both worked on the bindings until they were able to free her wrists. During the time it took to cut through the cuffs, Max told Joshua what little she knew about the attack. It turned out that Joshua knew more.

"Not police or military," Joshua said, pulling his necklace from under his grubby shirt. "Father's symbol."

"The breeding cult?" Max nodded without surprise. "They did all this. I should have been there."

"No," Joshua shook his head and pulled her into a tight hug. "Good Max was gone. Loud bangs. Bright lights. Smoke. Then shooting and more blasting. Fire… so much fire."

He whimpered and shook with the memories. Max comforted him, stroking his mane and making sympathetic noises as he began to cry. They sat that way for a long while as the darkness grew deeper and darker. Finally, both sniffled and shook off the quiet.

"Joshua hungry," he said. "Max have food?"

Max nodded and gestured to the refrigerator. Joshua rooted through the contents then brought Max a plate with an array of olives, cheese, scrambled powdered eggs and a handful of stale crackers. She ate it automatically and without thought. It made Joshua so happy to do this for her and to have a meal that he could eat from a plate and while sitting at a table that should could not push away the odd offering.

"Why Max and Alec stay in Seattle?" he asked as he began licking his plate.

"Uh, Joshua," Max said heavily, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I have some bad news about Alec."

"No," he shook his head. "No more bad news. Alec not in fire. Alec not home that night. Alec okay. If Alec run away, not bad news at all."

"He didn't run away, Big Fellah," she said sympathetically. "He got jumped the night of the attack. Some guys in a van grabbed him. I don't know where he is."

"Did you look?" he asked directly. "Logan and Max need to look."

Max sighed. She had looked. Logan had looked. Both ended in failure. When they had no leads immediately following his disappearance, they focused on stripping the authorities of their ability to defile the corpses of Max's fallen colleagues. It took a little luck and a lot of risk, but with Logan and Asha's help, they were able to highjack the refrigerator truck transporting their remains. Max was not happy about it, but there was only one way to make sure they did not fall into the hands of some dissection happy scientist: They burned everything.

It was after that caper that her desire to sleep hit her full on, she noted. She had stepped into the chilled car and opened all the body bags so she could look at their faces and tell them, despite there being no hope of being hurt, that she was sorry. She also made sure to place Gem and her baby together. It was the least Max could do. They then put the fan in a ravine and detonated several moderate sized charges. The truck and its contents were charcoal and twisted metal within minutes. According to Logan, that the theft of the bodies didn't make the news was a sign that the authorities were not as interested in hunting down more transgenics or transhumans. Either that or they believed they were all dead and did not want to worry the public more with worry that wounded and (possibly) pissed survivors were still roaming the city.

"We looked," she said shaking her head. "He's… gone. I don't know who has him or why they took him."

"Where is Logan?" Joshua asked aggressively pointing at the bank of computers on the table. "Machines must know something. Alec in trouble. We find him."

**# # # #**

Cranston drew on his cigarette then pulled his flask from his jacket pocket. He pulled on it deeply as his hands shook. He sat in his car two blocks from the derelict factory he called home base for the last few weeks. Technology was not really this thing, but email was something he could do. At first, he felt despicable, like a traitor when he reached out to the last contact point he had for his former Colonel. Now, the longer this ordeal dragged on, the more Cranston was certain his about-face on the secrecy of his job was the right thing to do. He just couldn't understand why this Eyes Only guy wasn't following up on the messages Renfro was leaking to him. The guy was supposed to be a do-gooder. Cranston expected him to send someone to rescue a guy who Renfro claimed was one of his friends.

Not that Cranston understood or believed half of what that spiky, white-haired bitch said anymore. This masochism was not what he signed up to do. Renfro was a good employer in the past. She paid well. She didn't ask questions. As long as you delivered results, she didn't care how the job go done. She didn't micromanage. She told you what she needed then disappeared.

Grab this guy, that was the order. Cranston wasn't a baby at this game. Things got wet sometimes. People got hurt. Bones break. Blood spills. That was the way of the world.

Except, this time, it was different. He recognized this guy. It took him a bit to place where he knew him from, but eventually it came to Cranston. He was never as good at numbers or faces as the others who worked for Lydecker. Cranston was a straight trainer. He taught. His students learned. And he didn't do the classroom crap. He was totally a field instructor. His students came to him in full gear, camo paint and weapons. He worked with a few on assignments even.

That was what tipped him. This guy was a smart ass and Cranston knew they had sweat out at least one mission together once.

There was only one of his pupils who had the audacity to crack jokes when they were facing a hail of gun fire. At the time, Cranston thought the kid was crazy. He was certain the little psycho path would snap and blow the mission. Cranston never saw the kid's face on that mission. He was safely many miles away in an alleged ally nation while the boy soldier was sent to clear a camp of terrorist wanna-be's. It was only after the shooting stopped and the code word for mission success was spoken over the secure channel that Cranston realized the kid wasn't crazy; he was just enjoying his work.

The next time he heard that voice was inside the concrete bunker a few weeks earlier. Renfro was inflicting pain on her prisoner—something Cranston himself had done to others in the past—but she was not doing the one thing torture was supposed to be for: questioning. She never asked for a location or an identity or any information whatsoever. She was slowly crushing the life out of her prisoner simply because she could.

Soldiers do not have friends, but warriors could have respect for one another. There was an unwritten code. You did your job. Sometimes, that job got you killed. Sometimes, it hurt you in ways you could barely imagine, but there was a point to it. Otherwise, it was just mindless killing and maiming. That was not the job of a soldier. That was for criminals and monsters.

He sat in the inky darkness with these thoughts, drinking and smoking, until he saw the pre-arranged code, a specific flashing of headlights at the corner. Cranston climbed out of his car and walked toward the now darkened vehicle. A fellow figure departed the passenger side and met him halfway down the street.

"Don," Cranston sighed with relief. "I wasn't even sure it was you getting my messages."

"You did good, Jimmy," Lydecker said and blew on his hands. "Any changes?"

"None," Cranston said. "Look, she told me to kill that Russian doc. I had no choice. I think… I think I doomed the kid. She cooked up something in that lab and they're giving it to this one, 494."

"Apparently, he likes to be called Alec now," Lydecker shook his head. "Don't worry about Brezhenski. She's not my concern and not a real loss."

"You don't get it," Cranston said urgently. "Whatever she created, Renfro's been injecting him. It's done something to him—poisoned him, Don. This is… murder. She's killing one of your soldiers."

Lydecker nodded. This news was not what he expected. A banged up body was part of his planning. He had medical support standing by who knew enough about transgenics to help but was not someone who had in-depth knowledge of toxins that could compromise the system of an X-5.

"He's immune to most poisons," Lydecker said.

"Not this one," Cranston shook his head. "I remember how they used to shake off the injuries—they'd stop bleeding and in a few days, a gash that would you and I would need stitches to close would be mostly healed on him. The burns he got when my guys zapped him to bring him in are still there. The cuts don't heal. Look, I swear to you that I would never have brought one of these kids in if I thought it was for something like this. You gotta believe me. I thought this was a righteous retrieval, Don. I thought she was rounding them up, like I saw on the news. Thought maybe this one went rogue and needed to be corralled, but now… She's just killing him, slowly. She doesn't ask him anything. She has her guards hurt him just to put it on video. Then she sends it to this Eyes Only. She wants him to have some of the others come try to fetch this one."

Lydecker nodded again. She had put something into 494's system that was blocking his ability to rapidly heal. That was a concern, especially when he thought about the extent of the injuries visible on the video.

"Anything else?" Lydecker asked.

Cranston shook his head wearily. He sighed some relief. He was worried Lydecker wouldn't understand. He had a strange sort of affection for the Manticore freaks, thought of them as his kids. Cranston admired some of their abilities—was jealous even sometimes—but they were still creatures to him. Monster-like hybrids that walked and talked like humans. Crantson had no love for them, but he didn't like seeing them worked over for no reason.

"I want to thank you," Lydecker said, placing a firm hand on Cranston's shoulder then pulled a k-bar from the sheath on his belt.

With one mercifully quick thrust, he buried the knife up to the hilt in the man's chest, just below his sternum, effectively puncturing his right ventricle, stopping the heart dead instantly. Cranston's knees buckled as he collapsed into Lydecker. The colonel hefted the dead weight easily into the alley, and covered him with several full trashbags discarded there, hiding the body from sight. He then signaled to his team to pull forward. Their operation was a go.

**# # # #**

The team entered the complex silently, ninja'ing their way to the checkpoints and putting down any resistance quietly and effectively. The only flaw Lydecker noted at the end was that Renfro herself was not in the building when his strike force penetrated it. His team, all former commandos except one, was well-trained and up to the challenge. The only member of the team who did not previously serve in uniform for the US military was possibly the best of them all—and she was the one tasked with retrieving their target and carrying him out. The others were to provide support and cover for her exit.

Lydecker listened from his post in the mobile command post cloaked as a package delivery truck. Everything went as planned. All exits were secured. All guard posts neutralized. His point operative reached the locked cell where the prisoner was held. She extracted him without interruption.

Cactus's already unsteady gait falter further as she moved, double-time, down the dimly lit passage. She stumbled and nearly dropped her cargo. She could feel Alec's blood seeping into her shoulder from undetermined but most certainly open wounds on the prisoner. The good news, she realized, was that gunfire had ceased behind her and there were no more frantic orders being shouted across the space. She could hear chatter on her radio that something was secure. That the voice was Colonel Lydecker's was reassuring as well. She reported in, as required, and the news she conveyed was not good.

"Olympus, this is Prometheus," she said keying her comm link, halting her progress briefly to catch her breath. "Target acquired. Asclepius. Repeat: Asclepius."

"Copy that," Lydecker responded in a clipped fashion. "Proceed to RV."

Cactus looked at Alec, feeling her own anxiety begin to increase as the smell of his blood filled the air.

"Alec, can you hear me?" she asked as she started moving again.

He gave no sign he heard her. His face was deathly pale—the parts that weren't bruised and swollen. The gashes around his ankles and wrists were deep and appeared infected. His breathing was arrested and shallow. What concerned her most was the chill she felt from him. He was cold to the touch.

"Prometheus, what's your ETA?" the earwig crackled.

"Exit Delta checkpoint in one minute," she replied huffing. "Two to the RV. Out."

The rest of the trek seemed to take longer than anticipated; although when she arrived at the rendezvous point, Lydecker made no comments about being late. Cactus felt oddly comfortable working under the colonel's direction again. He had been a rough and demanding commander at Manticore, but he was fair to her.

He hauled her and Alec into the back of the delivery truck then slammed the door shut. He barked a terse order at the driver who floored the accelerator. A flurry of chatter over her earwig let her know whatever other reinforcements he brought that survived were making their way out of the facility as well. They were away and away clean—mostly.

"He's bleeding," Cactus said unnecessarily.

The hospital gown over Alec's body was plastered to him and covered in plumes of bright red. His cheeks were sunken in and bruises plastered all visible skin.

Lydecker did his own examination: feeling for a pulse at the carotid artery, listening for respirations, noting the chill in his skin and feeling his abdomen for rigidity.

"Internally as well," Lydecker said pressing his hand to a spot on Alec's back then keyed his mic. "We're going to Waverly. Pick up the pace."

The transport gained more speed as it rocketed through the darkened industrial area. They surged through intersections, although the late hour meant traffic was not an issue. Cactus was unsure where they were going specifically but it seemed that her call for Asclepius, the code word for medical, was being heeded.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"He took a bullet to the back," Lydecker said, in a clipped fashion. "Are you hit, 375?"

"No," Cactus replied without correcting him on her name. "He's cold, sir."

"It must be shock," Lydecker said with urgency. "I've got a doctor on standby."

The truck careened around two additional corners then screeched to a halt and the driver jumped out and tore open the rear door. Cactus could see they were in an underground parking structure. Lydecker and the driver carried Alec's limp body through door and down a darkened hallway. Cactus followed, unsure what else she should do.

They arrived in a dimly lit room that looked like an derelict dentist's office. A stocky man with a harried expression was waiting. He wore a lab cat and began ordering Lydecker and his partner to place the patient on the table.

"Here," Lydecker said nodding to the driver to throw the keys to Cactus. "Go to 1237 Miller Road. Get Max."

"Max is alive?" Cactus asked. "She's still in Seattle? How do you know?'

"I handcuffed to a pipe in that house this afternoon," Lydecker replied. "The keys to the cuffs are on that ring as well. Bring her here. There are two sector passes in the glove compartment. If you get stopped, you work for Harbor View Medical and are on a supply run. Got it?"

Cactus nodded and caught herself saluting. She took on last, pitying look at Alec as the doctor began hooking monitors up to him and making preparations for surgery while diagnosing the damage. She heard the words "gunshot wound, no exit, left seventh intercostal" as she departed.

Hang out, Cactus whispered as she looked briefly over her shoulder to spy the frantic and worried look on both the doctor's and Lydecker's face.

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for two cliffhangers in a row. The next part of this chapter felt like an awkward place to break things so I put those pages into Chapter 11. Hopefully, those will be published within the next 2 weeks.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 11)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: So, no snow storm, but I felt bad about the cliffhanger so here's the new chapter… Enjoy!

* * *

**# # # #**

Max sat in the passenger seat of the delivery truck, her heart pounding mercilessly against her ribs as they tore through the trash strewn streets in the deepening darkness. Chilly rain began to peck at the windshield and bounce off the hood as the truck rocketed over potholes and (possibly) a stray cat or two. In the back, hiding from view, Joshua whimpered as something crashed from an unsecured storage bin and onto his head. He pounded twice on the wall adjacent to the cab signaling that he was fine. Max pounded back and cut her eyes quickly at the driver, Cactus, but decided there was no point in telling her to slow down. She was under orders to deliver Max back to the medical clinic. Cactus followed orders.

Max was elated Lydecker had found and retrieved Alec. Cactus's report that he was hurt, badly, but still breathing and now under a doctor's care, was good news. That Lydecker kept his word was practically a miracle. Max was never sure if she should trust him. He seemed sincere at times, but he also was going to kill her once to save her from being recaptured. That level of sincerity always made her worry.

Worry was her constant companion lately. It kept closer to her heart than a lover, she mused, but then shook that thought out of her head. It was callous and inappropriate considering the current situation. Still, for as concerned as she was (despite the haunted look in Cactus's eyes—coupled with the considerable amount of blood Max could smell on her dark clothing) feeling the first sparks of hope in many weeks. Alec had been found. He was out of the enemy's clutches. He was alive. He was getting medical care. Whatever else happened right now, at least those things had gone right.

As she took a steadying breath on those realizations, her phone trilled in the otherwise cold silence of the cab. Max answered the phone half expecting to hear Alec's voice telling her he was fine and asking her to pick up a pizza on her way. That estimation was wrong.

"Max?" Logan's voice carried in a garbled fashion over the line. "I got a message from Lydecker. He said…"

"Alec's alive," Max finished his sentence. "I know. I'm on my way to wherever he is."

"Is that safe?" Logan asked.

"We'll be fine," she said, then offered an explanation for the 'we.' "I'm with Joshua and Cactus. They're both alive. So is Dix, and so is Alec."

She breathed the last one and felt a tear prickle in the corner of her eye.

"For the moment," Cactus mumbled.

"What happened?" Logan asked. "All my message said was Renfro got away but that Alec was back among the righteous. How is he? What did he say happened? How is that woman alive?"

"I don't know," Max replied as the truck took a corner on two wheels and made a bee line toward an underground parking structure. "I don't know a lot of things right now except some of my friends are alive and Alec's hurt. There's a doctor looking after him. Cactus came to get me on Lydecker's orders. Before you ask, no I don't trust him. That's why I have back up."

Cactus chuckled quietly and smirked then nodded her agreement. She told Max she was hesitant to leave Alec with the doctor (whose name she didn't catch) and Lydecker, but her gut said Lydecker was on the level at the moment. He had seemed genuinely concerned and nearly upset at the state Alec was in as she carried him to the truck. Cactus felt bad for Joshua, riding in the back, surrounded by the bloody bandages they had used to apply to the gunshot wound and other oozing spots during the trip to the medical facility.

"I know you want to help, but be careful," Logan sighed, noting however that for the first time since she the night TC was attacked, she sounded like herself again.

"I've got it covered," she assured him.

"Let me know how Alec's doing," Logan replied. He thought he heard her agree before the line went dead.

The truck rocked to an abrupt halt in the abandoned garage not far from some heavy steel doors coated in a decade old graffiti. Cactus pulled it open with twice the force necessary and led Max and Joshua down an unlit hallway then through some double doors that led to another corridor with light spilling in from several doors at the end. Max followed, hearing Joshua's heavy footfalls close behind her. They entered a room lit by a guttering fluorescent bulb that cast a sickly green light over the setting. A stocky man with dark, receding hair, olive skin and a hooked nose and wearing green, blood-spattered scrubs stood beside a bed containing a very still form.

"Sam?" Max gasped as she recognized Dr. Sam Carr, Logan's physician.

"Max," he replied in a quiet and tired voice then pointed to the hallway for her and the others to follow. Once there, he sighed heavily. "I don't have much I can tell you at this point other than I'm surprised he survived the surgery."

"You operate?" Joshua asked.

Carr looked at him closely for the first time and took a step backward. Whether it was Joshua's size or his appearance, Max did not know. Nor did she care. Carr was generally accepting of the whole human/animal hybrid world. Whatever initial reaction he had to the dogman, she was certain he would grow accustomed to him quickly.

"Emergency procedure only," Carr said, addressing Joshua politely, confirming Max's faith in the physician. "He was shot. Luckily, the bullet missed the vital spots. It did collapse his lung so I have him on a ventilator. He lost a lot of blood, not just from the bullet. He's been hemorrhaging for a while due to some pretty nasty blows. He has a bruised spleen, kidneys and liver. He has deep muscle contusions on nearly every part of his body and more broken bones than I can x-ray right now. I did a neck and spinal series and can report that there are no serious fractures there."

"So he's been tortured this whole time," Max said darkly as she scanned the immediate area in search of Lydecker. She was making plans to let him share in some of Alec's pain as soon as they spoke face-to-face.

"Without a doubt, he has suffered an prolonged campaign of assaults," Carr replied. "I'm triaging the injuries. The bullet wound was my top priority. Now, I'm dealing with shock, hypothermia, dehydration and infections. I'm operating off the premise that his physiology is not much different than yours. Colonel Lydecker left before I could ask for more specifics. Can you think of anything I should know as I proceed?"

Cactus began speaking, answering Carr's question as Max's expression turned dark and angry. The slippery colonel had ducked out to points unknown. She hoped it was only to save his hide from her plans to pummel him for leaving Alec to be tortured rather than to bring some other form of trouble to their doorstep.

"We help?" Joshua asked hopefully. "Donate blood?"

"That would be helpful, yes," Carr nodded. "He got a transfusion of human blood during the surgery, but that's surely not the last he will need. I'll set you up to donate, if you'd like to take a seat in the other room."

"Help Alec," Joshua said solemnly and patted Carr on the shoulder comfortingly as he went in the direction indicated by the doctor. Cactus followed.

"I'll give, too," Max said, but was held back by Carr.

"I know, but let's hold off," he said. "I don't trust the power here and I'd hate to waste a pint or two on shoddy refrigeration. I'll only take from one of them tonight. I'll keep two of you in reserve."

Max nodded then looked back toward Alec's room. She could hear the soft sounds of machines and little else coming from that area.

"When will he wake up from the surgery?" she asked.

"He won't," Carr said. "Not on his own anyway. I've put him into a medically induced coma. The sheer multitude of his injuries is… impressive. He'd be in agony if he was conscious—pain so strong it could trigger a heart attack. He'll heal better if he's immobilized and his body has time to rest an repair itself. I don't like doing that with someone with shock and hypothermia, but I don't see any other way to humanely deal with this situation. If he wasn't a transgenic, I would never even consider this approach."

"Alec's strong," Max said plainly. "Sam, you can help him, can't you?"

"I'm doing my best," Carr assured her as he gripped her arm comfortingly. "Do you want to see him?"

Max nodded but her knees felt squashy like marshmallows. She walked on hesitant legs into the room toward the bed. What she saw as she approached the safety rail stole her breath and brought a new bout of head rushes and nausea as her stomach rolled and her heart fluttered frantically against her breastbone. What lay before her was not just an injured man; it was a shattered body. No part of him appeared unscathed. From the traction straps pulling the bones of his leg into alignment, to the bandages wrapped around his bruised and torn torso, to the gauze shrouding his bruised and battered face.

Max looked back over her shoulder to Carr and pointed to her own face as she asked a question.

"Why the bandages up here?" she asked. "Skull fracture?"

"Technically," Carr said simply. "His left eye socket is severely fractured. The pressure that the swelling placed on the eye itself was cutting of circulation to the optic nerve. I did a boxer's cut to relief some of it. With an ordinary man, I'd be worried about nerve damage and scarring. With a transgenic, I figured the risk was… less."

Max nodded and watched Carr step out of the room. Alone with the patient, her throat clenched and felt dry. She reached her hand forward hesitantly then pulled it back, afraid to touch him. Instead, she pulled a stool beside the bed closer and took a seat. She took a deep, steadying breath then leaned close to him.

"Alec," Max whispered as she bowed her head. "It's me, Max. I'm here. I know how much you hate being alone. So don't worry, you're not. I'm here and Cactus is here and Joshua is, too."

Gathering her courage, she reached forward and gently stroked his hair, running her fingers through his locks, hoping the physical contact would illicit some reaction, but there was none. He felt cold and still, like a corpse. Max shuddered.

"You're going to be okay," she said in a shaky voice. "Sam, uh Dr. Carr, is taking care of you. He's great so you just hang in there. Okay? You'll be alright soon."

She felt tears slip from her eyes and heard them hit softly on the sheets. The machines whirred and hummed around her. The ventilator sighed and gasped rhythmically. Tubes snaked down his throat and into his arms. Bruises masked his face and the visible parts of his torso. What parts of his skin were not bruised were pale and dry looking. He looked weak even without all the extreme devices monitoring and maintaining his systems.

"I hope you can hear me," she said quietly. "Alec, I need you to be strong. Do that for me, okay? You need to fight your way back. I know you're hurting and tired, and this is hard, but you can't give up. Cactus pulled you out of Renfro's prison. You're out, and you're safe."

He slumbered on, oblivious to her presence. He gave no sign he heard her voice or felt her touch. This pained Max nearly as much as looking at the devastation done to him. He was covered from waist down with a dingy sheet. His chest was exposed to the air and swaddled in gauze with a mixture of brown and bright red fluids seeping through them. Bruises plastered most of the other areas of visible skin. Half of the face was bandaged and large tube darted down the throat. From the ancient pump beside the bed, it appeared to be the reason the form could breath. A tangle of tubes attached to needles were sunken into the lifeless arms.

The hum and beep of various machines filled the oppressive air as Max stared at the scene with a feeling of detached horror. She had seen terrible things in her life, awful suffering, but this was different. This did not seem real. She could look at the body and recognize that underneath all the bandages and tubes was a living creature, but her mind would not accept that it was someone she knew, much less Alec.

**# # # #**

Whether it was one hour or 10, Max did not know. She sat beside the bed without moving until the ache in her own limbs was the only thing keeping her heavy lids from sealing shut. When she wasn't sure whether she would scream from the pain or the stillness, she left her post. She stepped out of the room and into the smaller procedure room where Carr had directed the blood donors earlier. On a cot in the corner, Cactus slept covered by Joshua's field jacket. Joshua himself was curled up on the floor beside her. Carr sat at the desk with his head resting on his hands.

Max jostled his shoulder slightly. He woke with a start then rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"Sorry," the doctor said. "Is anything…?"

"Nothing changed while I was in there," Max said, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"That's what I was afraid of," Carr sighed and looked at Max with a haggard gaze.

"Why?" she asked. "What did you expect to happen?"

"If he was an ordinary man, nothing," Carr replied. "I don't have any medical history on your friend, and frankly what little I've seen of his histology in the last few hours baffles me."

"Baffles you?" Max repeated. "Why? What's different about Alec? He's an X5, like me."

Carr shook his head then grabbed his papers from the desk and walked back into the patient's room. Max followed him as he looked at the monitors and sighed heavily.

"Except, that he's not—not like you, I mean," Carr said, gesturing to the print outs in his hand. "The barcode confirms he is what Colonel Lydecker claims, a transgenic, but none of my other tests support that conclusion. Of course, I'm working with some seriously pre-Pulse technology here—like two decades before it."

"What do you mean?" Max asked. "Of course he's an X-5. What else would he be?"

Rather than answer, Carr posed his own question.

"How much do you know about him?" Carr asked.

She shrugged then shook her head as she again looked nauseously at the oozing wounds on his still form. She shudder as she listened to the mechanical rhythm of his breathing, which she found just as jarring.

"Medically, nothing," she said. "I knew his twin brother when we were kids. Ben was… He had some emotional problems when he got older, but that was caused by what happened to him after we ran away. Alec was never like him as far as I know. Alec was a Manticore soldier. They sent him on missions. He passed their physical tests. Why? What's wrong with him?"

"Plenty," Carr sighed. "Again, I wouldn't normally discuss a patient's condition with anyone except the patient and his immediate family, but…"

"I'm the closest thing he's got to family," Max said quietly.

Carr nodded acceptingly then launched into his report. The outlook was grim. The extreme blood loss and a series of raging infection that were attacking various systems weakened him as much as the physical trauma to his body. He had numerous injuries, such as broken bones, muscle-deep lacerations and punctures, a series of electrical burns. He was in danger of losing his eye. He was also suffering from an seemingly incurable bout of hypothermia.

"In a normal man, I would not expect miracles so soon after being brought in," Carr said. "With an X5 though… You're supposed to heal at rapid rates, but he's not healing at all. Not as far as I can tell. I saw your reports after you got shot. You healed at an astonishing rate. Now, I don't expect results like that from Alec right now, but I expected to see something. If I didn't know better, I'd swear to you that he was more like me than like you."

"That doesn't makes sense," Max replied. "Alec _is_ an X-5. We don't get infections. Even if we break a bone, it heals in a matter of days. Same with cuts or even deep stab wounds. If he just needs a transfusion…"

She stepped forward and held up her arm, signaling her willingness to donate to him. Carr shook his head and fixed her with a concerned expression.

"I thought about that," he said. "I used normal human blood during the surgery. It didn't make him worse. And right now, he isn't in need of more. Look, I agree that something isn't adding up here. What I know about an X5's physiology and cell regeneration abilities tells me that some forward progress should be happening. Only, it's not. His body is behaving like a normal human's. His blood is not clotting well, which can be explained by the poor blood chemistry he has. His white cell count is dangerously low and is not picking up. He is suffering from some strong but basic infections that I didn't think your kind could even get. I'd like to figure out what's causing that before I start pumping solutions into him."

"What could do this to him?" she asked, knowing Carr likely did not have the answer.

"Some bio weapon?" Carr shrugged. "I really don't know. I don't have the equipment I need here to do a complete analysis of his blood. For all I know, he's a bio hazard himself, and we're all in danger."

"You're not taking any precautions?" Max asked startled by the pronouncement.

"I have no reason to actually believe he's a danger to anyone either," Carr shook his head. "I was just thinking out loud. Maybe if I knew who did this to him and why…"

"Revenge," Max said. "Against me."

"Maybe you shouldn't…," Carr began but Max shook her head.

"I've been the weapon before," she said listlessly. "If I'm the target now, I'd rather it be over quickly."

She had lost nearly all of her friends. She had lost what served as her home. Her life, the one she knew before the attack on Terminal City (even the one before the siege) was over. Her hopes for a normal life where she had a job and friends and could live like a normal person were dashed. Whatever aspirations she had for a relationship with Logan were now a tangled mess she wasn't sure she wanted to unknot. Dying from some virus created for her and only her seemed a convenient way to go. Alec was losing his life because of her; it seemed fitting that in the process she should surrender hers.

Max then looked back at Alec and could see his limbs trembling. She stepped cautiously toward the bed and touched his arm with her fingertips. She felt the frigid chill of his skin.

"He keeps doing that," she asked, seeming his body rigid and trembling. "He's shaking all the time. Is he having a seizure?"

"No, that's not a tryptophan deficiency; he's cold," Carr explained. "I'm trying to stabilize his body temperature, but nothing is working. I'd give my right arm for a warming blanket, but I don't have one. I've got the temperature in this room as high as it can go. Piling on a dozen blankets will just keep the warm air from getting to him. I'd bring in a space heater, but with the electricity in this place, I'm worried about surges and that could cause sparks. With oxygen tanks so close by, I think this is the best we can do for now."

"So even though he's got infections, his body isn't even getting warm enough to fight them?" Max asked.

"His body wouldn't even warm enough to keep him conscious," Carr answered. "He's running around 97 Fahrenheit degrees right now. He should be closer to 102. If not for his open wounds and broken bones, I would be considering hydrotherapy, if we had that as an option, but for now this is it."

"Body heat," Max suggested, as she touched Alec's arm; she felt the chill in his skin and shivered herself.

"That's a field medicine approach," Carr replied with a shrug. "Still, a human body temperature isn't a significant source of heat for where he needs to be."

"How about another transgenic?" Max suggested then lowered the railing on the bed without waiting for an answer.

"Sorry, Max," he shook his head apologetically. "I wasn't thinking."

"I think it's nice that you forget I'm… not like you," she said with a shy smile.

"Look, I know you want to help, but I don't think this will make any difference," Carr said.

"Are you certain it won't?" she asked. Carr shrugged. "Will it do any harm?"

Carr sighed then shook his head. He peeled back the blankets and helped Max ease herself into the bed beside Alec while giving her instructions on being careful.

"Be careful and avoid his touching his left side at all," Carr warned. "That's where all the fractures are: tibia, fibula, four ribs, clavicle, humorous."

Max nodded and moved carefully to lay beside him. She gingerly cradled him close to her and slowly rubbed his arm. Carr checked the monitors and determined the patient was not in any additional pain caused by her contact. He told Max he would be back to check in a little while but to shout if she felt there was any change in Alec's condition.

Max lay beside him and rested her head gently on his undamaged shoulder. He was motionless other than his shivers and the barely discernible rise and fall of his chest. Max felt tears well up under her lower lids as she sighed.

"The lengths you go to just to get me into bed with you," she said quietly. "This is a new low for you, Alec."

She paused, waiting for some sort of reaction, the twitch of a hand, the hint of a grin, but there was nothing. He slumbered on in his coma, trapped in the seemingly permanent pause.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly into his ear. "I wanted to follow you and OC home the night of the rave. I had no idea anything bad would happen, but I think, maybe, if I'd been there maybe those guys wouldn't have been able to grab you. Lydecker said it was all a trap to get at me. So that makes what happened to you my fault. I'm sorry they hurt you, Alec."

She tenderly stroked the unbruised spot on his right cheek. The deathly chill of his skin made her shiver for a moment. Still, remained oblivious to her presence.

"You're safe now," Max promised.

The tears flowed out of her eyes and dribbled down her face onto his pillow. She chuckled sadly for a moment, a sarcastic line about Alec having a woman crying in his bed sprang to mind, but it wasn't appropriate. There was, however, something she did want to say, something she felt she might have said to him many weeks ago if the circumstances had been different.

"You don't know this yet, but I stayed with Logan the night you were taken," she confessed as the knot in her chest twisted tighter. "I didn't exactly want to do that, but I did. Part of it was because I was afraid to go back to Terminal City and see you. That's not because I didn't want to be with you again; it's because I didn't know what I wanted or what I should do. What happened between you and me confuses me still. I don't know why it happened or what it means and that kind of scares me."

She placed her hand gingerly on his chest, just above one of the thick bandages, and could feel the beating of his heart keeping time with the soft beeping of the monitor beside the bed. It was a mechanical cadence that seemed as cold as he felt to her touch.

"Things have gotten really complicated since you've been gone," she continued. "I don't know that they would be any better if you were awake, but I still think you need to pull out of this soon. There aren't many of us left anymore, Alec, and I don't think I can take losing you as well. A few months ago, I thought I lost you when The Temptress sunk, and it hurt so much it shocked me. But then you were back without a scratch. I think that just reinforced my belief that you're like me: You always survive. Don't prove me wrong. Not now."

Max adjusted her position and snuggled closer to him. She pulled the blankets a little higher on him as she felt him continue to shiver. She pressed her forehead into the hollow of his cheek, feeling the deathly chill of his skin.

"I may not have ever said it, but in the last year, I've begun to count on you… a lot more than I thought I ever would," Max continued. "I've begun to trust you so I'm asking you for a favor. After all, I've saved you ass a lot in the last two years, and it's time you paid me back. So here's what I need: You gotta pull this, Alec. You have to get better and wake up. I've lost a lot recently, and I don't want to add you to that list, okay?"

She lay still beside him, feeling the trembling and unrelenting chill from him. Her worry and anxiety mixed with her own fatigue to make a powerful cocktail that pushed her headlong into a dreamless sleep. She woke a few hours later when Carr jostled her shoulder slightly as he changed the IV's. Max lifted her head and blinked hard as she recalled where she was. She looked down at Alec but there was still no reaction.

"That the first sleep you've gotten recently?" Carr asked.

"It's the longest," Max replied. "Any change?"

"None," Carr said. "But that's not necessarily a bad thing. He's been holding steady. Not that where he's holding is good, but at least he didn't slip back any."

"What else can you do for him?" Max asked, wiggling free of the sheet and standing up as she tucked the blankets carefully around Alec again.

"Not much until I figure out why his body isn't trying to repair itself," Carr said. "There are a few injection sites on his arm. Those are a mystery. Whether he was injected with a poison or some sort of toxin that's attacking his system, I don't know. What I don't know, I can't combat."

"What do you need to find out?" Max asked.

"About 200 thousand dollars worth of equipment," Carr said. "That or access to a lab that has that equipment. Of course, that would mean records and records lead to questions. Colonel Lydecker was very clear. This is a covert operation. No one is to know about your friend unless he says so, and even if he didn't leave me with that comforting restriction, I wouldn't chance it. Things have been quiet for a few weeks, but we both know that doesn't mean much. Alec is my patient. I'm going to do anything that puts him in danger. Exposing his existence to anyone would do precisely that."

Max nodded and thought for a moment. Carr appeared exhausted. He was worried for himself as much as his patient. She could only guess what sort of persuasion Lydecker used to get him to return from his self-imposed exile to play healer in this situation.

"How much medical attention does he need right now?" Max asked.

Carr did not understand the question. He stated he checked on the patient hourly and his ministrations depended on the needs of that hour. He was not doing well, but he was stable for the moment. He was not in need of constant revival or emergency procedures.

"So if someone could watch over him, give him whatever meds you're feeding him in those tubes, you could leave here for a while?" Max asked. Carr looked at her still lost. "I'm saying, if you could bring some of his blood to a place that had what you need, could you run the tests or do you need to be here all the time? Could you run the tests and come back if someone else waited for the results and brought them to you?"

"Ideally, sure," Carr nodded. "But if things were that easy…"

"I'll find someone," Max said without waiting for an explanation or debate.

# # # #

Max returned to Logan's house alone. Joshua opted to stay behind and sit with Alec while Cactus was heading back to her hiding spot around the port so she could give Dix an update. While they settled into their day's plans, Max had tasks of her own. Fighting yawns and heavy lids, she tripped and stumbled her way through Logan's files until she found the right folders. In his help to prepare for the BioCorp conference, he had taken the license to do some additional research on their employer for that job. Part of that included a schematic of their corporate headquarters. At the time, Max felt he was being overly cautious—especially considering they were being kind enough to supply a lab to cook up the cure for his virus. Now, she was thankful for his neurotic attention to extraneous details and touches of paranoia.

Getting into the lab was simple for Max. Getting in with Sam Carr in tow, not so easy. Her preferred entry points through ventilation and electrical conduits was out of the question. She needed a cloaked way to enter through normal means. That was going to take a little more work (including stealing key cards and access codes to the doors used by the cleaning crews). She had two targets chosen after going through their security footage and employee roster. She was about to contact Logan to seek his help in getting more background on each person so she could more carefully lift their security passes, when her plans were interrupted by a visitor.

"The rescue mission is done, Max," Lydecker said as he stood over the desk.

"Not as far as I can tell," she replied. "You got his body back only. Sort of a half-assed job considering the state he's in."

"Let me worry about that," he replied.

"Considering you're the reason he's in such bad shape, I don't think so," she answered. "You left him for who knows how many weeks in that bitch's clutches. If you think I'm going to trust you to get him help for this on your timetable, you really are as dumb as you look."

Lydecker shook his head and sighed as he took her verbal jabs in stride. The dark circles under her eyes were deeper than the day before but there was a renewed fire in her voice and determination in her weary expression.

"Your doctor friend can take care of the injuries and get him stable," Lydecker commanded. "What Alec needs is intervention that you aren't going to find breaking into a lab, the very lab that was a little too interested in your DNA not so long ago, remember that."

"You know what's wrong with Alec?" Max demanded. "Sam said he was injected him with something. What is it?"

"I don't know exactly," Lydecker said. "According to my source, something your Russian scientist helped cook up."

"Then I'll ask her," Max said darkly.

Lydecker shook his head and gave her a dark and meaningful glance. Max read it clearly: Brezhenski was dead. Whether it was by Lydecker's hand, his order or Renfro's she didn't know. More accurately, she didn't care. The best and easiest solution was denied to her. The hopelessness she recalled from the early days of the discover of the virus she carried targeted for long returned.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Lydecker commented. "Alec brought her here to help you. She took your DNA to buy herself into a better position, but then Alec foiled that and sealed his fate in the process."

"How?" Max asked.

"He never told you about Brezhenski stealing your code?" Lydecker asked.

Max thought back and stopped on the memory of the conference—the point that would likely have been the most memorable part of the BioCorp conference: Alec's discovery of BioCorp's appropriation of her genetic code. He had broken into the company's computers and destroyed their records. The invasion and the company official responsible for that has slipped her mind in the events that followed the conference.

"He said he destroyed those records," Max recalled.

"He did," Lydecker said. "That's what makes this ironic. The only reason Brezhenski was brought here was to take care of the virus you carried, but she took it a step further. She gathered information for your enemies and was going to pass it on to the highest bidder. Alec stopped that transaction, but it put him on the radar. He did that for you. If he was willing to do that for you, perhaps you would be willing to take similar risks to protect him. So, he brings the doctor to this country to help you; she tries to help herself to a bit more; Alec shuts her down, again to help you; and then, as fate would have it, her work stopped Alec. It's very complex yet very predictable at the same time."

"What did she give him?" Max asked. "If you know what it is, you have to tell Dr. Carr."

"I don't know what to call it or how she made it," Lydecker said. "All I know is that whatever it is, it killed his nanites. He was injected with it for so long that… The expert I spoke to doesn't know if his system will be strong enough to recover."

"What expert?" Max asked.

"An expert," Lydecker said forcefully. "The toxin Renfro administered leached into Alec's system to the point that it supersaturated and may have mutated his DNA. The part of his code that manufactures the nanites may be dead. We can't know for certain until some tests are run."

"Dead?" Max repeated. "Tests?"

The word tasted sour in her mouth. She could feel the evil, clammy hand of Manticore reaching back into their lives and placing a cold and unyielding clench around their throats again.

"So what are you going to do to fix this?" she said. "Where the hell is your so-called expert?"

"Far away," Lydecker said. "It's not an easy matter to arrange this. Look, Max, I'm doing what I can. I meant what I said. I don't want to see any more of you destroyed. I know what the breeding cult did at Terminal City. I know what they want to do. We can't afford to lose you or any of the transgenics who have survived. Now, you need to trust me. I told you I would bring Alec back. I did. Now, I'm telling you that if he can be cured, I will see that it happens. What I need you to do is to put aside you plans to break into BioCorp. That won't help and could just put you in danger."

**# # # #**

Max sat in front of the computer screen looking back at the greenish and static filled image of Logan on the other side of the country. Their weekly check in call, that she had missed for two weeks, was the last order of business before Max as heading back to the underground medical facility where Alec spent his days.

"Any updates Max?" Logan asked, over the feed. "How is Alec?"

He didn't like that the majority of their conversations now were about Alec. He was a big enough pain normally with his antics interrupting their time together; now, even his inaction was causing just as much of a speed bump for them.

"Not good," she said wearily.

"Your message mentioned Lydecker stopped by again," Logan said. "What does he say?"

"Recently, nothing," she scoffed. "The last time I spoke to him, he said that I need to be a good little soldier and stand down. I don't care if he did bring Alec back; he's the one who left him to be tortured all that time. He left a few days ago, and I haven't seen him since. So, I'm not feeling the love, you know?"

"What does Sam say?" Logan asked.

"That it's amazing he's not dead, but other than that there isn't much to cheer about," Max summarized. "Joshua is staying with him pretty much around the clock. He's got a cot in Alec's room. He reads to him and talks to him, but Joshua's so tired. I told him that I'd spell him for tonight so I should get going."

She sighed and fought a yawn. Her days were a blur and her nights long and lonely. She was immeasurably happy that Joshua was alive and doing well, but her happiness was tempered by her worry over Alec's dismal condition. He was not getting better. In fact, Carr's latest round of tests showed he was again losing ground. His temperature was on the rise, but that was finally due to the fever that had set in. His weakened immune system was trying to fight back, but even the antibiotics were not enough to fight the infections. The wallpaper of bruises were now a complete rainbow of colors from yellow to black.

"Hey, think of it this way, Lydecker said he needs his soldiers still, right?" Logan said. "Well, he's not going to lose Alec if he can help it. He was one of his true blue operatives, right? Maybe it's time you trust him, a little."

"No," Max said. "Not with my life, not with Alec's. Not with anyone's."

"Okay," Logan agreed. "Better go give Joshua a break. Let me know if I can do anything to help."

"Yeah," Max nodded.

"Anything else going on?" Logan asked. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in weeks."

"Uh, it's been… chaotic," Max nodded. "We… we'll talk once you're back. Any idea when that will be?"

"I should be home soon," he offered.

"When is soon?" she asked, not particularly caring at that moment.

"A couple weeks, three at the outside, I hope," he replied. "We're nearly finished here. The subcommittee is going to release their findings and I want to make sure they keep them accurate. They've got no choice but to reveal how deep the breeding cult made it into the government. Oh, here's a bit of news you won't catch anywhere else. Ames White has gone to ground."

"What makes you say that?" she asked as she stifled a yawn.

"Am I boring you?" Logan wondered.

"No, just… one more thing I need to care about but just can't right now, I guess," Max said listlessly. "What about White?"

Logan explained the news imparted to him by an east coast member of the Informantnet. White's standing in the cult went seriously south when his cover was blown with the government. His brother's escape from captivity had not helped matters a year earlier. What hurt him most was his obsession with finding his son. Logan kept close tabs on the boy and his aunt as he was the one who gave them the new identities. So far, White was nowhere near them, but things could change quickly—as White himself had learned. The government wanted him for questioning as a member of the cult and his activities to deceive the Federal Government. The cult wanted him for allowing them to be exposed to the Eyes Only Informantnet, who broadcast their existence to all of Seattle and other media outlets picked it up from there. He and his brother had disappeared from the radar, although it was unlikely they were together. Ames vanished several weeks before CJ again disappeared from the sanitarian previously run by the cult.

"Sucks to be him," Max said listlessly. "Of course, he's like Renfro: more dangerous flying totally solo."

"Maybe the cult will deal with him so he can't bother anyone," Logan smiled.

"As long as someone does, I don't care," Max sighed.

"Hang in there, Max," Logan said. "As soon as I'm done here, I'll make the arrangements to get back to the west coast. Trains are still so scarce. Frankly, their safety records should be under investigation considering the last four derailments. Plus, with the erratic schedules, it might be quicker if I take a bus."

"The gas shortage could get you stuck in Kansas for a month," she reminded him.

"Then I'll buy a horse," he offered. "I miss you. I can't wait to see you in person."

"Yeah," Max said uneasily. "That'll be… good."

**# # # #**

The dank, sickly green walls made Max want to scream. She was considering asking Joshua to paint anything on them, but he looked as tired as she felt. Alec was the one running a fever, but Max felt wiped out and the room felt stifling. Joshua, too, mentioned that he felt drained after so many days breathing the stale air in the bunker-like room that was Alec's hospital room. Max was hesitant to let him leave, uncertain where he was staying, but he assured her that he had a safe way to his hideaway a couple miles from their present location. It was a an abandoned house in what had once been the suburbs. The neighborhood was empty following riots after the pulse turned the once peaceful oasis from the city into something that looked more like a wasteland in a zombie film.

Max took his place on the stool beside the bed and placed her hand on Alec's arm. He was now hot to the touch. The dangerously high fever had not stopped his shivers though. Carr stepped into the room and checked his vitals and proclaimed he was deeply concerned the stress the fever was placing on Alec's heart and kidneys.

"Nothing's going right, is it?" Max observed. "Lydecker said Alec's nanites are dead and his DNA may not be able to replicate them."

"I don't have the equipment to confirm that, but it makes as much sense as any other theory I've considered," Carr shook his head.

He looked much like he felt: defeated. What he did find hopeful was the willingness of his patient's friends to sit by his side and offer their quiet and unrelenting support. In a world where they were created and raised to kill and destroy, these creatures instead were focusing their energies on a passive vigil fueled by nothing more (yet something so powerful) as love for one of their own. I was that, as much as the seemingly unsolvable puzzle, that kept Carr thinking of possible solutions. As if sensing this, Max offered a suggestion.

"What would happen if you gave him a transfusion from another transgenic now?" she asked.

"I don't know," Carr shook his head. "I know you and your friends offered that a few days ago, and I resisted, but… At this point, I'm out of any better ideas."

He opened a sterile tube and needle assembly and sunk the business end into Max's arm. He opted not to do a direct transfusion as there was no need for such emergent needs. Carr already was forgoing enough of his medical training that he felt he was one step shy of malpractice. Observing even a few of the normal protocols was all that kept him from feeling like he should hang up his stethoscope.

Max watched casually as the red liquid coursed from her arm into the IV bag. She stared at it, cutting her eyes occasionally at Alec. The sight of him, so broken and battered, still raised sour vapors in her throat. She shook her head and took a deep breath.

"It's never easy," Carr said observing her reaction. "It doesn't matter how tough or seasoned you are, hell even if you don't know the person, it's hard to see anyone damaged like this if you've got any humanity in you. When you have a relationship with the patient, it's worse."

"Relationship?" Max repeated then shook her head.

"He's special to you," Carr said. "Max, I can see he's a good friend. The look on your face when… Max?"

She heard Carr's voice from far away. The room suddenly tipped sideways and her eyes rolled back in her head. She slipped from her seat on the stool and landed in a heap on the floor. Carr pulled the IV from her arm and raised her legs. After a moment, Max inhaled deeply and looked up at the ceiling, feeling a small lump forming on the side of her head where she hit the floor.

"Max?" Carr said, helping her sit up as he took her pulse. "How are you feeling?"

"Stupid," she groaned and rubbed the sore spot on her head. "I think maybe you need an air quality check in here."

Carr nodded and helped her stand. As a precaution, he walked her into the procedure room across the hall and offered her some water. His concern was that she was on the verge or a tryptophan seizure. Between the extreme hours and the stress of the vigil, Carr had been expecting something like this. He explained as much to Max as he retrieved an icepack for her bump.

"You've been through a lot recently," Carr said. "You spend all your time taking care of someone else. Who takes care of you, Max?"

She shrugged. She didn't need a keeper or a caretaker. She had taken care of herself for years and fully intended to remain that way until she was dead. Relying on people got you dead; her friends at Terminal City found that out. Tears suddenly swelled in her eyes as that thought stabbed at her heart.

Carr, unsure what the problem was for certain, looked into her eyes, checking for any internal swelling. Max shied away from the light and proclaimed a new bout of dizziness and nausea. Carr moved the ice from her head to the back of her neck then raced back into the room to retrieve her discarded blood bag.

"What are you doing?" Max asked.

Carr had begun putting drops in various test tubes and Petri dishes. He explained he was checking her for any contagion. While it was unlikely she picked up anything from the patient, he could not rule it out without a tests. Max resisted for a moment, but gave in when she determined there was no way to dissuade him. He ordered her to put on a hospital gown and submit to a full physical. Too tired to argue, she gave in.

She had been poked and prodded and had veins tapped so often as a child that being placed under medical scrutiny was as natural as eating when she was hungry. She let Carr do his exam. She was glad for the distraction. Sitting for more endless hours watching Alec suffer ate away at her insides like acid.

"Sam," Max sighed as she dressed in her clothing again, "I never asked: How are you here doing this, taking care of Alec? I thought you and your family left town to get away from this madness."

"I was persuaded," he said sourly as he made notes on the chart he started for her.

"At gun point?" she wondered, gritting her teeth as her anger with Lydecker reaching a new zenith.

"Not exactly," Carr shook his head. "My family is safe and that's what matters. How much have you been sleeping?"

Max shrugged.

"I don't normally sleep much," she offered. "I guess more lately. I just… Logan thinks I'm depressed."

Carr looked at her with a calm and unsurprised expression. She suspected Logan may have gotten the same message to Carr. From the doctor's long pause, he was leaning in that direction as well.

"You've been through a lot," he said. "I think maybe you need to give yourself a break and acknowledge that, super DNA or not, you are human. Doctors hate to be told this, but it's a rule we have to learn which I think you need to accept too: You can't save everyone."

He nodded to Max then returned to the samples he had collected and placed in a centrifuge and on the bacterial mounts. He did not expect to find much in the way of infectious diseases as Max had not been injected with the alleged nanite killing agent; however, he knew he was dealing in science so far above his head that he would be a fool not to check for the obvious just in case. Leaving him to his experiments, Max returned to her seat beside Alec's bed and sat there in silence for a long time.

He did not notice her return, just has he had not noticed her fainting. She rubbed his arm, hoping get some reaction, just as she did each day. However, just like every day before, there was nothing. She was growing frustrated. Carr had begun to lower the narcotics he was giving Alec in an effort to bring him out of his medically induced coma; however, the multitude of strains on his various systems were made waking him no easy task.

"You're a pain in the ass without even trying," Max said to him. "There must be jackass in your cocktail somewhere."

She smirked, imagining what response that might elicit from him. She could hear his voice, see the smarmy grin on his face, that slight curve of his mouth and the naughty smile that played mostly in his eyes as he would pretend to take offense. Max looked down at his still form, his face so battered and expressionless, and felt that dry lump well up in her throat again.

"I think we have something else in common," Max said softly as she gently stroked his hair. "I guess I don't like quiet all that much when that's all there is. Either that or… maybe I miss your incessant talking… a little."

Carr stepped into the doorway and cleared his throat to politely notify Max of his presence. She turned her head and saw him jerk his to the side, gesturing for her to follow. She left Alec to join the doctor back in the procedure room. He looked at her with a hesitant expression.

"What is it?" Max asked. "Did I pick up the toxin that poisoned Alec? I thought it had left his system. "

"It has, as far as I know," Carr said. "Alec didn't give you anything."

"So I'm not dying or sick?" she asked with a shrug.

She never thought she was sick. She was weary—mentally and physically. Weary was not an illness. It was a state of being.

"No, not sick," Carr replied. "Pretty much the opposite. Over all, you're in perfect health."

"Good," Max nodded. "So, no news is good news."

"I didn't say there was no news," Carr informed her. "There is. Max, you're pregnant."

"I'm sorry," Max shook her head. "What?"

Sam handed her a report of her blood and urine analysis.

"You're pregnant," he said.

"No, I'm not," Max said continuing to shake her head.

"I checked it twice to be sure," Carr nodded. "Now, I don't know how far along you are, four weeks at least, I would guess, as you tested positive for human chorionic gonadotropin."

"What is that?" she asked.

"It is the most reliable of markers for diagnosing pregnancy in the early stages and generally is only detectable after implantation of the fertilized egg," Carr explained. "That is the root of my estimation you are a minimum of four weeks into the first trimester."

Max continued to shake her head. This was not possible. She was not in heat. She had not been in heat in a long time, since Brezhenski messed with her system to manufacture the cure for Logan many months ago.

"I can see that you're surprised by this," Carr said gently. "We can do an ultra sound to determine how far along you are and how viable the pregnancy is. The fact that you haven't noticed or suspected gives me reason for concern, but your system may not behave the way an ordinary human female's would, so your surprise at this news might not be a problem."

He coaxed her onto the table and wheeled in equipment from Alec's room. She had seen him use the machine on Alec to look for internal bleeding days earlier when his white count continued to fall making Carr suspect there was a nick in Alec's spleen. That proved wrong; Max was hoping Carr's ultrasonic peaking at her insides proved his latest pronouncement was equally as off-base. Rather than argue further, Max nodded numbly laid back as instructed. Her mind had stopped processing words and thoughts. She simply stared at the ceiling as Carr began his procedure.

"Granted, this is not my area of specialty, but I'm guessing you don't have a lot of other options for prenatal care right now," Carr said. "Once we narrow down a time line, then talk about your options."

Max said nothing. Her head was reeling. She wondered if this was another of those bizarre dreams from the hormone shots Brezhenski had given her all those weeks ago. It made sense she would be dreaming something like this considering what was done to create the vaccine for Logan. Still, this one was a vivid and painful dream as her worry over Alec was so acute. Plus, any time Alec appeared in those kind of dreams, he was in bed for a very different reason than medical needs.

She heard Carr explain something about what he would be looking for on the screen, but she was not truly listening. She folded up her shirt and did the opposite to the waist band of her pants. She felt the cold gel on her skin, and then she stared with detachment at the screen beside her. The image that appeared there was cloudy even with her enhanced vision.

"Okay, it's been a while since I did my OB rotation in school, but this confirms the earlier tests," Carr informed her. "There, most definitely, is the embroyo. If you look here, that blinking is a heartbeat, which tells me this is more than four weeks of development. Over all, development looks good; the embryo appears viable. I'm estimating it to be roughly at 12 to 14 weeks of development. Does that seem logical to you?"

Max thought for a moment then nodded dumbly. Fourteen weeks placed it right around the time of the attack on Terminal City, the last time she spent the night in Logan's bed and also just about the time of her undercover operation with Alec as well. Her face flushed with the realization.

"Can you be more precise?" she asked. "A specific date?"

"Sorry, no," he said. "Is that important?"

"No," she said blankly.

"Of course, these estimates all depend on whether the gestational period for a human and transgenic child is the same as a regular human," Sam explained. "With your metabolism, it could be that growth is accelerated."

"No," she said. "That's not possible. Just over three months ago is the last time it could have happened."

"Logan told me previously that you know another X5 who had a child with a human," Carr continued. "There were no genetic anomalies with that child?"

"None that I know of," Max said. "The human father didn't know his wife was an X5 until years later and he wasn't suspicious about anything."

"That's good news," Carr said. "It also leads me to believe that the pregnancy proceeds in the same fashion and rate of a normal human pregnancy. So, from your expression, I'm guessing this surprised you."

Max nodded and looked again at the odd blur on the screen beside her. Surprised was not really the most adequate word.

"Look, Max, I know you're in a tough situation here," he said. "Legally, after you reach the 12 week mark, I cannot purposefully terminate the pregnancy if it is viable and is not a danger to your life; however, I understand if, because of your unique situation, you want to do so. I suppose an argument could be made that in this climate, your life could be in danger if I buy the argument that public opinion holds a human/transgenic child should be killed and so should the mother. Considering the climate toward transgenics, that's not a bad argument to make. If want to do something about this, to abort, I will help you."

"No," she said quickly. "I don't want to do that."

She heard herself say the words and was astonished. She was just barely coming to grips with the knowledge that another creature was residing in her body. She had not consciously decided what to do about it, but her mouth appeared to have decided for her.

"Are you sure?" Carr asked. "I'm not passing any judgment, and I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just saying that if you want to make a decision, we can discuss it. Not to rush you, of course, but the longer you wait, the more difficult it will bet to…"

"I've decided," she said.

"Okay, but I know that you're in a bit of a shock," Carr said. "I think it would be wise for you to just take a day to think. Talk to Logan then…"

"No," she shook her head and sat up quickly. "This is my decision. You're a doctor. You can't tell anyone about any of this, right? Not unless I specifically tell you that you can, correct?"

"Or unless it is going to put your life or that of another at risk," he nodded.

"Good," she said. "Then this is between us."

"Max," he said. "You realize you can't hide this. Frankly, you're basically at the point where even people without enhanced visions will begin to notice."

"Let me do this my way, Sam," she said. "I need to… wrap my head around it. Right now, the important thing is helping Alec."

"I am helping Alec as much as I can," he said. "He is precisely the same as he has been for two weeks. What concerns at the moment is you. You don't sleep much normally, but your body is going through a lot more than normal. You need your rest. Staying here for long hours without rest or regular meals is not good for you, and it's certainly not good for your baby. You say you want to keep it, then you need to act like it by starting to take care of yourself."

"I'll be fine," she said. "Just don't tell anyone. Not Logan and certainly not Lydecker. Promise me."

"You're my patient, Max," Carr said. "You and your baby. I work for the both of you. I don't discuss your medical condition with anyone but you. Just remember what I said about endangering a life being one of the reason I can break my silence. Sleep. Regular eating. No super soldier activities. Got it?"

"I'll… be better at all that," she said. "I promise. I'll.. get some rest. I'll eat. God knows I'm starving all the time, except when…."

"When you're nauseous?" Carr ventured. "I think that's a combination of things for you right now, but it's all part of the process regardless. I'll look at your blood work again and see what would make sense for any supplements you'll need. I'll tell you upfront, your tryptophan deficiency concerns me. I'm not sure if the pregnancy will reduce your levels more or not. I'm also concerned what a seizure might do to both you and the baby. You're going to need to be vigilant, Max, if you want to see this through to a happy ending."

"Right," she nodded dumbly as she stared blankly ahead of her and swallowed dryly. "Happy."

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N: **Much more to come soon… weather permitting


	12. Chapter 12

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 12)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: Okay, so I couldn't stand going this long without at least a word or some indication that Alec still has a brainwave or two. I seriously need to get back to writing my novel this weekend, but this is just too much fun. Hope you enjoy. The next installment will be in about 2 weeks—honestly. The novel must have attention or I'll get into serious trouble. (Oh, and no real cliffhanger on this one).

* * *

**# # # #**

Max finished dressing following her latest exam. Alec slumbered on in his coma in the next room. The persistent paralytic state was no longer medically induced. Carr had weaned him from the heavy sedatives a week earlier to find what he feared: the heavily damaged body was still unable to quickly heal and repair itself. As a form of preservation, it retreated into the coma and was giving no signs of relenting.

Max and Joshua sat with the patient in shifts. For the sake of safer travels, Max had the day shift and Joshua traveled to the secret medical facility at night. Lydecker was still MIA, which was probably just as well for him. Max was intent upon throttling him the next time he was within reach of her hands. She wasn't sure now how much of her anger was simply rage and how much was due to the new imbalance of her hormones. Not that it mattered; whatever worked to beat the man soundly was okay in her book.

The baby issue was, of course, still difficult to accept. She had not told anyone; her secret was known by precisely two people: herself and Carr. She didn't want to tell Logan for two reasons: One, using a static-filled cyber chat didn't feel right as this was something one should hear in person; next, and most relevantly, there was that pesky question of who the father actually was, which also merited an in-person discussion.

Since learning the news, she had felt numb. She wasn't in denial. She wasn't elated. She wasn't depressed. She was simply numb. She wasn't sure she wanted to be a mother, but she didn't want to snuff out the creature either. After the loss of her friends at Terminal City, she has been the cause of and surrounded by more than enough death for her lifetime. She felt she owed it to this being to do all she could to see that it survived. What would happen once it was born was another question, but she didn't need to have that answer just yet. There were still five months to go before she needed to come up with that answer. And, again, that also depended, at least in part, on paternity.

"So, how are you feeling?" Carr asked as he checked Max's blood pressure.

She thought the monthly exams were pointless. Nothing was wrong the last time she saw Carr; what was the point of going to him when she didn't feel any different. Well, not sick anyway, or sicker, she corrected herself. She certainly did feel different. Not precisely bad, but certainly awkward. If she had somehow doubted Carr's initial diagnosis, she had no reason to any longer. Her clothing was tight—and not in the way she normally preferred—and, if she was ready to be honest with herself, simply no longer fit.

"Frumpy," Max said. "I don't get why some women love this. I understand the concept about wanting a child and caring for the kid, but if you ask me, the whole process of growing one is a bitch. My boobs hurt and so do my feet. How is that possible? Neither one is getting use."

Carr smirked and shook his head. Max's frank approach to conversations was not soften any by hormonal changes or any maternal instincts her body might be generating.

"All part of the process," he replied. "Are you sleeping any better? Getting only an hour at a time could be contributing to your blood pressure issues."

"I sleep when I can, Sam," she shrugged. "I get tired, but after a few minutes of napping, I just wake up. I'm not trying to pull all-nighters. My body just doesn't need all that much sleep."

"Except that it does," Carr reminded her. "Just keep trying. Getting run down is asking for problems. You and your baby are healthy right now, but if you don't start making accommodations for the changes you're experiencing and take care of yourself, that won't continue to be the case."

Max nodded. Sleep was not a close friend normally, but for the last few weeks, she was finding herself feeling slow and pokey. Her head and eyelids felt heavy and yawning was becoming a favorite hobby. If not for that (and the recent growth that made her shirts strain at the seams) she would have been unaware there were any changes occurring within her. One of the few perks to having feline DNA, she was learning, was the lack of morning sickness.

"Have you spoken to Logan recently?" Carr asked.

"Sort of," Max said. "I heard from him, but not over the phone or computer, precisely. I got email from him. Well, email he sent to himself, but I have access to his account. That's how we're communicating. He's still stuck trying to get back to this coast."

A railroad strike had gripped the nation paralyzing nearly all travel. Logan was finding it impossible to make his final trek home. He had left DC, which meant he had left his most affluent connections. He was muddling through using his friends on the Informant Net for shelter and the occasional chance for email communication. Without his sophisticated security equipment, he feared contacting Max directly. He had resorted to drafting email to himself, saving it in his secure folder on the Eyes Only server. She checked every four or five days for new drafts and would drop a message to him in response. He had set up a means for them to do a brief internet chat that the night before. The discussion was awkward.

Logan seemed chatty; she didn't like hunting and pecking for keys to type bland phrases stating she was fine and just hoping Alec would wake soon. The hesitation in Logan's responses might have been slow internet speeds or it might have been read as more of an annoyance that Alec was still a large part of their discussions. Max was glad when the lights flickered, threatening a brown out. She let Logan know she thought the power would be down shortly. They disconnected but did not set up another date to do a real-time chat again. Max felt guilt for that, but also glad she wouldn't have to force herself to withhold information or lie to him again so soon.

"You okay?" Carr asked, seeing the dark look on her face.

"Yeah, just… not good at waiting," she said as she glanced toward Alec's room. "Shouldn't he be showing signs of waking yet? You said the toxin should be out of his system and the drugs you were giving him are gone. Why is he still out?"

"Because he's hurt, Max," he replied calmly. "This is not just a matter of waiting out the chemicals. Whatever they did to him, essentially cut his metabolic rate in half making him… like the rest of us. Everything in his genes that helped him heal faster, resist injury and survive longer than the average human got turned off. Now, it's a waiting game to see if the toxin merely depleted his body's energy to make those supercharged red and white blood cells you all carry of if it killed those abilities all together. This is a waiting game."

"How long?" Max asked.

"I couldn't hazard a guess," Carr replied. "His body is exhausted from just surviving this; it's not strong enough to heal him yet. He needs time to recharge, like a normal person would. His systems have been doing everything they can just to keep him alive. Adding the job of healing as depleted all of them. I don't know precisely what happened to him, but I know he sustained some methodical physical torture over a protracted period. Regular bodies don't just bounce back from that."

"But you've raised his core temperature," she said. "You've given him fluids, and you're feeding him through those tubes. He should wake up, right?"

"That's my hope," Carr nodded. "Max, his batteries are depleted. We're trying to recharge them. With the dialysis, the liver and kidney functions are improving, but they're still not great. His white cell count is still extremely low; his O2 levels are hovering around the point that in a normal man would make us worry about brain damage."

"Brain damage?" she repeated. "He's breathing; that machine is doing it for him. You think he's not waking up because he's got brain damage?"

"I'm not entirely sure," the doctor informed her. "There is definitely brain activity going on, which is a good sign, but whether there is cognitive impairment is something we won't know until he wakes up."

"But with the drugs gone and his body starting to work again, he should be able to heal completely, right?" she asked. "After all, Zack had entire organs replaced, and he was…"

"Zack also had a full complement of some pretty supped up nanites in his system," Carr reminded her. "They were the ones responsible for his healing progression. Alec needs to produce his own again, if he's able. His system is doing everything it can, but it is struggling; he's fighting very hard, but… Look, this is uncharted territory for me. I can say for certain that a regular human being would have been dead by now, so the fact that he's still hanging on gives me a reason to hope that his genes will start reactivating and helping him progress the way… the way he was build to progress. He has a chance, but I'm not in a position to say how much of one. Every system he has is depleted and starving for attention, but Alec's only has so much in him he can give. A body, simply human or genetically enhanced human, is a machine. Sometimes… the parts get too worn out or damaged to function any longer the way they should. The machine fails and…"

"What about a transfusion?" Max asked, throwing the word at the doctor. "It worked for Logan, twice. You were going to try it a few weeks back and then…"

"Then we had to stop because you fainted," Carr reminded her. "When I have another transgenic here, I can consider it."

"Why wait?" Max asked. "I'm here now."

Carr shook his head.

"Sam, my blood's got to pack an extra punch," she insisted. "No junk pairs in my DNA. Maybe those will give his genes a little nudge in the right direction—kick start the sequence to get off its tired ass and start working again."

"No," Carr was firm. "Max, I can't let you help. Not like this. You're not allowed to donate blood to him."

"Why not?" she asked aggressively.

"You're pregnant," he said.

"It's not catchy," Max scoffed.

"I'm aware it is not a disease," Carr said easily. "Pregnant women do not donate blood. The health and well-being of your child could be put at risk. I'm a doctor. I don't sacrifice one life to save another. Look, I know you want to help. It's commendable and a tribute to your friendship to Alec, but you can't help me now."

Max nodded and edged herself off the table. She looked away from Carr. She knew he thought he was doing the right thing, and maybe he was, but it didn't make her feel any better. It just made her feel more useless. She hadn't been the one to find Alec. She wasn't even invited to the rescue mission. She wasn't there to help anyone at Terminal City. She hadn't protected OC when she and Alec got jumped.

"I can't do anything or helping anyone any more it seems," she said distantly. "All I can do is stand around and wait while I watch everyone else suffer."

"Maybe you're thinking about it the wrong way," Carr said, patting her on the shoulder consolingly. "You're protecting your baby."

Max scoffed and absentmindedly rubbed the recently emerged bulge in her belly. She didn't feel very protective at the moment. She felt effective and worthless. She also didn't feel very maternal as her thoughts about the child's existence were resentful for a moment, but the vicious feelings quickly faded to be replaced by guilt. It wasn't the child's fault its mother wasn't quite the hero she always thought she was.

Sighing and resigning herself to another long and arduous day of watching someone sleep, Max shuffled into Alec's room and took her place on the stool by the bed. She didn't bother speaking to him much anymore; it felt pointless as he gave no sign he could hear her. If Carr was right, there might be brain damage. That made talking feel worse. Even if he could hear her, he might not understand and that could cause anxiety and frustration. She felt she had done enough for one lifetime already. So she sat beside the bed and spoke only when Carr asked her questions.

She looked down at Alec and the now brownish and yellowing bruises on his body. There was some healing going on; that was evident. Still, there was no life apparent in him outside the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and the mechanical chirp from the machines that let her know his heart was still beating. She shook her head and fought the hot swell of tears that she blamed more on her own condition than on any outside factor.

_It's not just Alec talking and (sometimes) listening that I miss. It's how he made me feel when I was with him. I always admired the way Logan could forget that I was different. It took something like this for me to realize that Alec made me forget that I feel different because around him, I'm not._

**# # # #**

Black, thick, cold fog rolled through Alec's brain. The world slowed down and sounds were oddly muffled, as though everyone was speaking with a hand clamped hard over their mouths. This made no sense. People were talking but he could see nothing. Not that anything he heard made sense. He knew words, understood that the sounds were words, but he wasn't exactly sure what they saying or who was speaking. There was a scarier thought in his head: _Who am I?_

He knew that answer. He must. He knew he was alive and that he was a man and…

_Wait. I'm… different. There's something about me that is… What the hell is it? _

There were answers to his questions, confirmations to his wonderings, but they were all just out of reach, just off stage, just behind the curtain. He struggled to grab for them, but the fog was so thick and so cold. He just wanted to recoil until it all just went away. Sometimes, there was a soft voice in his ear and a familiar scent in the air. It was different than the antiseptic odor he sensed at most times. His mind fixated on those moments when things seemed different, less harsh, more tempting. He wanted to open his eyes—once he realized he had eyes. That was an odd discovery, like waking up in the morning to find that you had hands… if you didn't know you had then when you went to sleep.

_Who thinks like that, _he wondered but was left with only one answer:_ Obviously, I do. Who am I again?_

A series of vertical lines and numbers bounced around in his brain. He wasn't sure what they meant at first, but they were important—they had to be, why else would they crop up every time he started trying to remember is name.

_They're an address. No, a phone number. Maybe a bank account. A secret code, perhaps. Maybe I saw them in a movie. There was that one about the guy who was super smart but crazy and he… Am I crazy? No. Not insane. That was…. Someone else was loco. Someone from… school? Home? Damn it. _

_Okay, I don't like this. So… think about things you do like. That'll be better. _

_Money. I like money. Money I don't have to work hard for, especially. Movies, yes, I like movies. Max. I like Max… Whoa. Max? I'm a guy. Max is a guy's name. Me and Max? No… Max and Logan. Me and Max and Logan and money and movies? Holy crap, I'm in gay porn. _

_No. Wait. That's… wrong. Max is… here._

Consciousness arrived slowly, speckling his mind like a sporadic rain. He wasn't even aware when he became awake. Opening his eyes didn't occur at first. He also didn't want to do it. Something was wrong. He wasn't sure what, but that was not the most worrisome question. His hazy thoughts dwelled on a blur of questions about who and where he was and why, which made it easier to ignore the ominous beeping sound filtering into his mind. It was a mostly steady rhythm but occasionally it would increase and then, in a more disconcerting change, drop the pace a bit. In those moments, he also had the sensation of movement near him; the air would stir and there would be other noises, far off and foreign. Sometimes, the feelings stopped after a strange pressure would release on his chest; other times, a burning sensation in his arm would appear and he would drift back into numbness.

_This is not good_, he thought. _Something is very wrong here_. _Not wrong like freaking out you might be a gay porn star … I mean, 'cause, I'd be the star, obviously… Or is that not a good thing? Wow, how sad would that be to be just an extra in a gay porn… Why am I think about that? That is not normal… Normal and porn… No, that's it. Normal has a picture of me that he uses for… Oh that's it. I need out of here. Now!_

In the midst of his panic, there was also the feeling that he was not alone in this dark place. Someone else was there, just out of sight. He could vaguely feel the warmth of another body and hear words being spoken that were not urgent like the ones that came with the beeping sounds changed or the shouting in his head to rid it of the subject of Normal having a picture of him on his wall. This voice was soothing to him although it also made him ache a bit, too.

Alec could feel soft touch of small but strong hands. They gently stroked is hair in time with the whirring and beeping of machines nearby. The darkness and chill around him were still thick, but Alec pulled and clawed his way through them, like struggling out from under of a heavy, damp tarp. When he finally pried his eyes open, he found only have of the world came into focus, but that part was a pair of dark, worried eyes and a face haggard and drawn by exhaustion and anxiety.

"Alec?" Max said softly, leaning in to look closely at him and smiling sadly. "Are you awake? Finally. Hey there. Welcome back."

"Back?" he asked in a weak and hoarse voice.

"Yeah, to the land of the conscious," she said. "You had us all worried. I was afraid we'd lose you."

Alec blinked slowly and looked at her with greater focus. He swallowed hard as he narrowed his one available, still bloodshot and bruised eye. She smiled down at him, offering an expression of relief and thankfulness.

"You had me worried," she said with relief as she wiped a single tear from her cheek. "It's so good to see you awake, Alec."

He stared at her, well, if you could call it staring. Something was wrong with the left side of his head, he decided, as that side seemed a bit hazy. Still, he looked at her with his off-kilter vision and wondered what was going on. Something was definitely amiss. This woman was in his room, which didn't look much like his room. She was smiling well, half smiling, half crying. She was speaking softly, almost kindly. This did not add up in his mind.

"Who are you?" he croaked.

"What?" Max asked, a look of dire worry washing over her face. "Alec, it's me. It's, Max."

She offered him a scared, almost frantic expression, as the right side of his mouth curled into the slightest hint of a smile.

"No, Max isn't nice to me," he observed in a hoarse whisper. "You're an imposter."

"You're an ass when you wake up even?" she scowled at him briefly then returned to her relieved and grateful expression.

He tried to respond, but no words would come out of his mouth. Instead, he moved his mouth several times but no sound emitted. She fumbled with a cup and some water, spilling part of it on his chest and soaking his hospital gown. She shook her head and apologized as she carefully blotted up the spill from his chest.

"Oh, sorry," she said.

"No problem," he said in a hoarse and weak whisper. "Your turn."

"For what?" she asked.

"Wet T-shirt," Alec offered and gave her a dull grin that matched perfectly with his drugged and glazy eyes.

"Well, at least you're still you," she smiled and pet his hair. "Are you in pain?"

"Yes," he said. "Everywhere."

"I know," she sighed sympathetically. "That's actually good news. If you can feel the pain, it means your nerves are regenerating. Sam said it'll hurt for a while, but pain is a good sign right now."

"Awesome," he croaked. "Uh, , 452, 494—that's us, right? Manticore numbers?"

"It used to be," she said. "Did Renfro…?"

He did not let her finish. He shook his head and pushed the thoughts away. He wasn't going to dwell on thoughts of the white witch now, so long after her demise, although something told him she was important again, somehow. He couldn't nail down the thought. He was just glad he knew his name and what those numbers mean. Then again, he couldn't remember why he was thinking about them at all. And what was he doing in bed with Max being nice to him?

"What happened?" he asked.

"Uh, don't worry about that right now," she said. "Just concentrate on getting better. Can I get you anything? More water?"

"Water," he repeated and nodded. Max move the cup closer to his lips but had it pushed away. "No, I mean that I remember the water."

"They immersed you during interrogation," she said.

She shuddered at the thought of being him being water-boarded. She wondered what Renfro hoped to attain from him in the way of intel during her torture sessions. Three months of interrogation and it seemed she hadn't learned a thing. She never made a move on Max the whole time and finally resorted to sending out phony distress signals to Logan in an attempt to lure her in for a rescue that was destined to be an ambush.

"Huh?" Alec replied. "No, I was in the water. I was so cold… so long. The boat sank. I'm sorry, Max. I failed. The boat sank. I never got to Siberia for your doctor. I'm sorry."

Max's heart sunk in that instant. Alec's memory had a sizeable hole in it. He thought he had just survived the sinking of The Temptress.

**# # # #**

"Alec forgot the year?" Joshua summarized Max's tale of his recollections since he woke a few hour earlier.

The patient was again unconscious. This time he was just sleeping according to the doctor. His vitals were stronger, but no miraculous recovery was on the horizon. The fact that he woke up, however, was sufficiently good news. Max had remained past her normal departure time to see if he would wake again. Carr felt there was a chance that more of his memory would return as his body continued to heal and his mind was able to process all he had been through.

"Seems like it," Max said, looking at her shoes.

She felt awkward around Joshua at the moment. He was one of her dearest and most trusted friends, but she was keeping secrets from him at the moment. He might be the one being on the planet who would forgive her for it, but until she was ready to deal with the issue, she would shoulder the burden alone.

"Not good if he owes people money," Joshua observed with a sage nod.

"I don't think anyone he owes is still alive," Max replied. "Anyway, he thinks he just left for Russia a few days ago. He has no idea yet that… a lot happened since then."

"We tell him?" Joshua asked. "Make remembering easier."

"Sam says not to," Max replied.

She was glad when the doctor offered that advice. She wasn't sure what she should tell him. Breaking the news that his friend and cohort, Mole, was dead at the hands of the breed cult didn't seem wise in his weakened condition. Learning his room was obliterated in an explosion and he owned precisely nothing any longer (not stitch of clothing and certainly not a TV) would also be hard. Telling he that he had a torrid night with Max that may have resulted in procreation was certainly not something she was ready to talk about with him. She wasn't even sure if he held any feelings for her. If his memory was wiped clean, he might not have those same feeling still. They may have been a result of their time spent cooped up in Terminal City during the siege. They might have been something that only got propelled to the surface after he spent all that time alone in Siberia or perhaps after he faced the possibility that she and Logan no longer had an obstacle between them.

Max felt selfish for even worrying about that. After everything Alec had been through, there really was no point in telling him about a single night that might not mean anything to him any longer. It might even be easier for her, Max realized. There was a chance Alec was her child's father; however, it was just as likely Logan was the father. She could make this easier on all involved if she simply left Alec in the dark.

Except her conscious wouldn't let her. It wasn't fair to Logan and it wasn't really fair to Alec. Not that she expected Alec would take the news well. He wasn't big on responsibility and unplanned fatherhood certainly fit that bill.

"Big worries, Little Fellah?" Joshua asked, seeing the dark clouds in her eyes.

"Just don't know that it's a good idea to tell Alec anything yet," she said honestly. "I think Sam's right. We should see if his memory comes back on its own. Don't tell him about what happened at Terminal City, okay?"

Joshua agreed. He had plenty he could talk to Alec about without thinking of the bad things.

"You go home now?" Joshua asked. "Late."

"I think I'll just sleep here," Max shrugged. "If the two of us are here, Sam can go out and breath the crappy night air outside and see that the world still exists outside this bunker."

Joshua nodded then loped his way into Alec's room. The patient was asleep, but there was a different look to this unconscious state. There was more muscle tone in his still battered face and a touch more color in his pale, sunken cheeks. Joshua smiled gratefully and pet his head gently, which prompted his eyes to open.

"Oh, sorry, Alec," Joshua whispered. "Go sleep again."

"Josh?" he replied weakly.

"Yes, is me," Joshua grinned and chuckled. "Alec knows me. Not forget Joshua."

"How could I?" Alec asked. "You're my wingman, right?"

"Uh, no," Joshua said. "No wings. Joshua has canine cocktail, not bird."

"I mean sidekick," Alec explained. "Partner in crime—but not real crime, so don't correct me on that. I mean we're…"

"Friends," Joshua smiled again. "Joshua knows. Was kidding. Alec fooled."

Alec chuckled dryly and painfully. The dogman whined softly his sympathy and tenderly pat the patient's arm. Joshua explained he and Max would watch over him this night as they had for many previously. Alec's curiosity, along with his lucidity, was returning. He was tired but the thought of sleeping again was too much. He felt like he had been gone from the world for too long and could not figure out why. He tried questioning Joshua and only received sympathetic head pats and sighs. Eventually, he resorted to asking the transhuman to talk about his latest painting.

"Not painting," Joshua replied. "No paint. No canvas. No space. Too dark."

"You need me to score us a shipment of lightbulbs?" Alec asked. "I'm pretty sure I can handle that as soon as I'm out of here. I'm surprised Bullet didn't do it for you though. He's getting pretty good at that stuff—just don't let him store them where he wants to put those goats of his."

"No more goats," Joshua shook his head and sniffled. "All gone, like Bullet."

"All gone?" Alec asked. "Gone where? How?"

Joshua inhaled sharply and shook his head. He scolded himself for speaking out of turn and looked cautiously toward the room where Max slept. She did not appear to hear the conversation. He hung his head guiltily and was about to go to her and confess his transgression when a man's voice filled the room.

"It's kind of a long story, kido," Lydecker said as he stood in the doorway.

"Oh hell no," Alec shook his head and tried to sit up. He slipped back down onto his pillows as his strength failed him.

"Take it easy, Alec," Lydecker said, placing emphasis on his name. "I'm here to help."

"Great, Colonel Don to the rescue," Alec scoffed. "Josh, rip this guy's arms off, would ya?"

Joshua stood, pulling up to his full height, and blocked Alec from Lydecker's view. He offered a low growl as a warning.

"I come in peace, Joshua, you know that," Lydecker said calmly, prompting Joshua to cease his noise but still remain in his protective spot. "Alec here needs my help. Well, not my help, but help from someone I know."

"I'm fine," Alec said. "I'm not going anywhere you say will help me. You did that once before and I landed in PsyOps for six months."

Lydecker shook his head in disagreement.

"That wasn't my call," he said. "I knew you and your brother were different from each other. I trained you. I knew what you were made of; I was never worried you'd… end up like he did."

"Why are you here?" Alec asked signally Joshua to stand aside.

The transhuman did but not by much. He stuck close to the bed, keeping a wary eye on Lydecker. He did generally like the colonel. He had been close to Father and nice to Joshua, but Max did not like him. If Max had a problem with the colonel, so did Joshua.

"I told you," Lydecker said. "I'm here to help. I can cure what ails you, Alec. Or do you like feeling this way?"

**# # # #**

The next morning, Max would awaken to wonder how she never heard the departure during the night. One moment, she was listening to Joshua get reacquainted with his friend Alec; the next, she was hearing Carr sputtering about his patient being missing.

Just as disconcerting to Max, was the fact that Joshua was gone as well. Fortunately, they did find a short note tucked under Alec's pillow. The shaky scrawl was Joshua's handwriting.

_ Max,_

_ Colonel Don taking Alec to get better. Joshua going to make sure Alec OK. _

_ Do not worry,_

_ Joshua_

Max swore loudly and viciously. She scowled and shook her head. Those short bouts of exhaustion she experienced were short but powerful. Apparently, they slipped out unnoticed during one of them. Now, she had no idea where Alec or Joshua was or when (or if) they might return. One thing she was certain of, she would be maiming Lydecker the next time she saw him.

**# # # #**

Frustrated by the absconding of her two remaining friends from Terminal City, Max turned to Original Cindy for some perspective and support. However, her attempts to reach her friend failed. None of her calls to her apartment were answered. She was never home when Max dropped by. Finally, Max resorted to calling Jam Pony.

She knew better than to call the dispatch desk. Normal surely wouldn't allow her to speak on the phone if it wasn't involving a package delivery. She knew OC was no longer manning the desk anyway. Her arm was healed and she was back on the street making deliveries. Knowing her typical arrival time, Max waiting until that hour and called the wall phone.

Sketchy answered and spoke to her in a conspiratorial tone. He said Original Cindy departed two weeks earlier without a word, but that he heard others questioning Normal about it. Sketchy expected to hear pronouncements of a firing on the horizon, but the termination happy owner instead stated only she would be on extended leave with his permission then alluded to some secret knowledge only he possessed about her vacation. Sketchy was worried and had been hoping Max would drop by to help look for their friend.

Max looked at herself in the mirror as Sketchy offered to be her sidekick on a rescue mission if needed. She declined the need for one while she silently reminded herself the only thing super about her lately was the size of the bra and underwear she was sporting. However, she promised to let him know if he was needed or if she found out anything.

At least the answers she needed were in a predictable (if deplorable) and safe location. She set out late that afternoon for her target: He lived in a quiet and relatively clean neighborhood in Sector 8.

Max arrived at her destination and knocked on the dingy white door, mopping sweat from her brow after hiking up the three flights of stairs to the apartment. She huffed as she caught her breath. The city was in the middle of an uncharacteristic heat wave of sorts. The weather for early June was in the mid-80s with sunshine and no rain in sight; which didn't do much to cut the humidity. For someone lugging around extra pounds of flesh and water weight, the weather was yet another obstacle to getting through her day—as if finding something to wear and then actually dressing wasn't hard enough lately. She listened quietly as the door and could hear a bizarre moaning, painful sound from inside.

Worrying about Normal's well-being was not something that felt natural; then again, she thought, neither was watching her belly button slowly get pushed from its inny position to an outy. She shrugged and hip checked the door so that the latch gave way and allowed her entry to the apartment.

Inside, it was just as warm as the hallway, except there were fans going in all directions blowing around the hot, sticky air. A small stereo sat on a bookcase near the wall and was playing some song sung by a woman admiring the body of her man and how underneath his clothes was her chosen territory. That was a sufficiently expressive lyric by itself; however, the man singing along with the tune at the top of his lungs and the object of his efforts made the whole thing obscene. Normal stood, shirtless and sweating, in front of a crude but reasonable likeness of his favorite cage fighter (Monty Cora) singing the song and appearing to weep as he did so.

"Are you crooning to a drawing of Alec?" Max asked, her jaw hanging open and her eyes opening so wide she felt they might fall out of the sockets.

"Whoa, ho, no, there Missy Miss," Normal gasped as he grabbed a T-shirt from the floor and thrust it over his head. "I did not give you access to my… Oh my god, you're all bloated. Is it a disease? Are you here to infect me? Is it because I threatened to fire you all those times?"

"What?" Max shook her head and closed the door. "Normal, get dress. I'm here to ask you for some information that's all. I heard this… It sounded like someone in here was hurt so I came in to check."

"What?" he shook his head, turning his back on the poster he was professing his adoration for moments earlier and turned off the music. "I was just… Doing some breathing exercises. I like to keep healthy and fit.'

"In case you see Alec and you want to look your best?" she wondered with a smirk.

For a moment, she desperately wanted Alec to see this. She would give nearly anything to observe the pained, horrified look on his face as his worst fears were confirmed. There was always the suspicion that Normal's love of his "golden boy" was more than just admiration due to Alec's sucking up skills and cage fighting abilities. A repressed and closeted Republican who professed a belief in 'good, honest, American values,' Normal's true loves remained hidden but suspected by those who spent a great deal of time around him.

"Why?" Normal asked, running his hand through his hair as if to straighten it. "Is he with you? Does he have what you… Oh, god. You're pregnant, aren't you? That's what all this is, isn't it?"

"Not relevant to the conversation," Max said. "I'm here to ask you where Original Cindy is. Sketchy told me you know. Spill."

Normal walked past her and opened his door. He looked down the hall for a moment then returned with a sad and disappointed look etched on his face.

"No, Alec's not with me," she shook her head. "He's… been sick."

"Something you did to him?" Normal asked. "Tell me you didn't seduce him just so you could have his love child."

Before Max could respond—not that she had a clue what would be the appropriate thing to say, she only knew punching him in the throat would not get her the answers she needed quickly enough—Normal's expression changed. He gave her a fond and friendly look that made her skin crawl.

"You know, your life on the run is no way raise a child," he said. "Now, I'm not finding fault here. I'm glad you chose life; it's the right thing to do, even for your kind, but what sort of life can you give this little wonder of nature? Allow me to help you, Max."

"Help me?" she repeated as thoughts of just tapping him hard enough in the throat to drop him to a knee resurfaced.

"Let me be the… foster parent, if you will," Normal said. "I can take your little barcoded beauty under my nurturing wing and give him the life he or she probably won't get living in sewers or toxic dumps or wherever you find shelter these days. It's the humanitarian thing to do; I remember you like doing the right thing. I want you to know that I am here to help."

"Because you think the baby might be Alec's?" she asked.

"Did you sully my golden Adonis with your loose and harlot'ish ways?" he asked with offense. "You know, he got shot at Jam Pony. That means he had blood loss and wasn't in his right mind. People don't just recover from something like that. Trauma does things to you. So, whatever you did, you took advantage of him. There's no way that child should be raised by someone with those kind of morals. Think about what I can do for you."

"Actually, I'm thinking a bit more about what I can do to you," Max replied snidely. "Location. Original Cindy. Now."

"Wait, wait, wait," Normal continued, oblivious the her threat. "Hear me out. This is a spacious, clean apartment. I am a Harvard graduate. I can educate your little superhero—regardless of who the specimen donor is of this… You do reproduce like a human does, don't you? Or is this some sort of spontaneous asexual thing?"

Max ground her teeth and glared at her former boss with a heated stare. He took in her ire this time and took a step back. She fixed him with a penetrating gaze.

"Original Cindy," she repeated firmly. "Sketchy said she's been out of town. He said only you know why and where."

Normal swallowed hard then nodded.

"Her aunt got sick and fell down some stairs," he reported. "She was only going to stay for a week, but then the old lady died so your friend stuck around to help her cousin with the arrangements and whatnot. I was touched by her devotion to family. I also suspect she was merely sticking around to grab whatever inheritance that was left or to steal the family's valuables to hock for a few spare bucks once she returns. So, as she owes me for several fines I assessed her during her time of convalescence for tardiness and rudeness—not to mention altering my filing system and refusing to fire people like I ordered her—I believe I stand a better chance of getting paid if she does her money grubbing bit with her dead relative."

"You're all heart, you know that, Normal?" Max remarked and shook her head. "When is she coming back?"

"Next week, I think," Normal said. "If she's coming back. I supposed if the haul is good, she'll fly the coop. Why? Are you looking for her to be your salacious partner in raising this child of sin? I applaud you for realizing you should not be responsible for the upbringing of any creature. Therefore, I will restate my offer to take this child… let's say, once it has sufficient bowel and bladder control to raise it myself. I will make him a responsible, accepted member of society. Something you can be proud of."

"My baby isn't a thing and you aren't raising her to be your supersonic messenger," Max shook her head. "Thanks for the skinny on O.C. Oh, and if you ever want to speak to Alec again, you better hope I forget you were serenading him half naked the next time I see him."

"Why?" Normal asked in a completely transparent attempt to sound nonchalant. "Does he… ask about me?"

Max rolled her eyes and left the apartment. She smirked as she approached the stairs. The trip down would be exhausting and the child was already putting pressure on her bladder, but the thought of telling Alec what she saw in the apartment was worth the effort it took to get there and to depart. However, Max's mirth faded as she continued down the stairs.

She was worried about Alec and Joshua. She had received a message from Lydecker stating he was taking care of Alec, that he had a specialist working on the case. He also said Joshua was happy and being treated well. What that meant scared her. She wanted to speak to both of them, to hear from their own voices that they were fine. Lydecker's message indicated both would be able to return, but it did not give any indication of when.

OC was out of town dealing with her family. Dix and Cactus has moved on, letting Max know they would contact her once they were settled in a new location. Joshua and Alec were gone to places unknown as well and she had to trust Lydecker, of all people, that they would return in due course and in good health. Logan was allegedly, finally, just a few days away from Seattle from his most recent message.

Not that she was looking forward to that reunion. She had expected him much sooner—like at a point where her condition was something she would have to reveal to him rather than something anyone could guess just by looking at her.

There was also the question of whether to tell Alec. When they spoke last, he was just emerging from a coma and had no recollection of the previous year. She wondered if not telling him was the wise choice—assuming he did return to Seattle. With nothing and no one of importance in his life living in the city, he might just as easily slip into obscurity in some other city.

Max, herself, was considering doing that. The child might not be Logan's, but even if she was, Max ran a terrible risk remaining in Seattle. The transgenic fever was no longer running rampant in the city, but that didn't mean it wouldn't flare up again. Plus, Ames White knew this was her home base, knew who her remaining friends were in the town. She was beginning to think leaving and having her child in secret in some other place was the safest thing.

The problem, of course, was finding a doctor she could trust. She was lucky she had Sam Carr, she knew. He would protect her secret. Thinking about it, she reminded herself that she had an appointment with him that evening after dark—the safest time to cross between sectors. That was one thing she did appreciate about a visibly obvious pregnancy. Sector cops waved her through check points without paying much attention to her sector pass. They just wanted her to go so they didn't end up having to deliver a baby on their watch.

As darkness rolled over the city, taking with it only a small fraction of the heat and humidity, Max began her trek to the medical bunker. She arrived just after 10 p.m. to find Carr there, dispensing medical care to an old woman from that neighborhood. His upscale practice might be gone, but he had expressed a sense of purpose since returning to this rudimentary clinic he set up after Lydecker forcefully persuaded him to care for Alec after the rescue. The doctor once again had patients who needed him; he felt useful and like he was doing what he dreamed of when he first chose medicine as his calling.

"Max?" he called into the hall way as his last patient of the day departed. "Come on in."

"You're in a good mood," she noted. "Someone finally pay you what they owe?"

"Now that would be amazing," Carr smiled. "No, I'm just having a good day. Now, on to the topic for the evening: How are you?"

The discussion then focused, like it always did, on her sleeping and eating patterns. There wasn't much else she could do lately. She felt sluggish, but Carr reminded her that she had just walked four miles across the city in stifling heat and humidity without collapsing. Slug was not the word he would use for her efforts. Max shrugged. She still felt awkward in this new body and was looking forward to the day when it was just her living in it again.

"Adoption is probably out of the question for me, huh?" Max asked, as she lay on the table and watched the hazy screen to her left that showed the fuzzy image of the creature within her.

"You're considering it?" Carr asked surprised.

"Not exactly," she said. "I mean, I guess I'm considering everything. I just… Someone today mentioned it. Granted, he mentioned it for completely vile reasons, but it got me thinking."

"Well, I can make some discrete inquiries for you, if you're serious," Carr offered.

Max shook her head. It was crazy idea. The thought of being free to be who she was before this was tempting, but she knew she couldn't and wouldn't do it. She wasn't sure she would be a good parent, but she knew she would protect the child and could protect the child better than anyone else. She also knew that (even if the child was only half transgenic) it might not fit in well with parents who didn't know its lineage or could be placed in danger if anyone else did know who and what the child was. Max sighed and looked away from the ultra sound. Those thoughts always dragged her down and put a heavy knot in her chest.

"Well, everything looks good," Carr said as Max wiped the goo off her belly. "Both you and the baby appear to be fine for now, but I'm going to restate my concerns. More sleep, a better diet and reducing your stress, Max. You need to take care of yourself. Your blood pressure is a little high. Nothing to worry about yet, but let's not get to the point where it becomes a worry."

"Well, it's not like I'm walking away from pampered treatment to live like a fugitive on purpose," she said. "I'm doing the best that I can."

"I know," he nodded. "My offer still stands. I can help you in any way that you need. Just tell me."

"No," she shook her head. "You've risked enough taking care of me as it is, Sam. I'm fine. Really."

"This isn't just your life you're maintaining," Carr said, his lecturing tone bleeding through his compassionate expression. "I know have an immunity to most illnesses and your body seems to balance all its chemical needs, but we don't know that your body can protect and maintain the fetus as well as it does you. So far, your baby's development and heart rate look fine, but there may be things going on that my limited tests can't determine."

The nagging question, the one that kept her from sleep and was the greatest source of stress in her life (other than being a transgenic in a world that hated freaks), popped into her mind again.

"Do you think it would be the same whether the child was half transgenic or fully transgenic?" she asked, wondering and worrying that his response would answer a lingering question. "I mean, did you expect a half-human, half transgenic child to be as resilient as this one seems to be?"

In the hallway, a man recently arrived to the underground clinic paused before reaching the open door. He heard the discussion, recognized the voices, and froze in place. His eyes went wide with shock as his throat tightened and his mouth ran dry.

"I have no way of knowing how much of the baby's health is solely due to you and how much is the baby's own viability," Carr shrugged. "I suppose there is an viable argument that a fully transgenic child would carry some if not all of the strengths of the parents , but genetics are tricky. Sometimes genes cancel each other out; there are recessive issues to consider; the possibilities are nearly endless. It would be more likely that a fully transgenic child would have a stronger immunity than a human transgenic hybrid, but I would actually expect to see more of those traits in play once the child was born. Why do you ask?"

"Uh, no reason," Max replied. "So the fact that the baby is doing well is just a sign that my body is a good shield to… everything that's not great around me?"

"That's my working theory," Carr said suspiciously. "It's also my worry. Pregnancy puts an amazing strain on a woman's body—yours included. Max, you're under more stress than a normal expectant mother. Your systems could begin to falter. Now, I know the position you're in, but for the sake of your child, I would strongly urge you to consider different accommodations so that this course doesn't start something we can't fix. Why? Is there something you think I should know?"

Max shook her head and tried to look back at him innocently, unaware that her private appointment was no longer a secret.

Alec remained stock still just outside the door. The words he heard echoed in his mind. He stared at the ajar door and waited. When he heard Sam tell Max he would see her again in a few weeks, he stepped forward and knocked on the door frame then peered inside.

"Max?" he said stepping inside the room.

"Alec?" she gaped, staring back at him in surprise as she sat up quickly. "You're back."

"Very observant," he said looking from her to Carr with a confused expression.

"When did you get here?" she asked. "I mean, back in Seattle."

"Earlier," he said vaguely. "You weren't at Logan's; I wasn't sure where you'd be so I came looking for the doc here to see if he knew. What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said quickly and cut her eyes at Carr.

"Nothing?" Alec repeated. "You're just hanging out with Dr. Carr at 11 o'clock at night for no reason?"

"Fine, Sam was just checking on me," she said, slowly pulling her knees to sit cross-legged and lean forward in a slouching pose.

"Checking on you?" Alec repeated. "Why?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "He was just making sure… all that stuff that Brezhenski did wasn't having any side effects."

"Looks like maybe there are some," Alec observed narrowing his gaze on her. "Did I just hear correctly? Were you talking about a baby?"

"Well, as there is no chance I can participate in this conversation ethically, I'll be going," Carr said, putting on his coat. "Max, call me if you need anything. Alec, how are you doing?"

"Confused as all hell, which must mean I'm good as new," he replied. "Is anyone going to answer me?"

"Not a chance," Carr nodded then pat him on the shoulder and nodded to Max as he departed. "I'll show myself out. Max, you know how to lock up."

Max looked back at Alec with an expression she hoped looked innocent and casual. In fact, she was shocked and overjoyed to see Alec. There had been no word that he was returning to Seattle or what his condition was, wherever he was. He appeared to be in good health, great health even, especially compared to the way he looked when she last saw him. His complexion was no longer deathly. The hollows were gone from his cheeks. The terrible scar they anticipated from first the beating and next the emergency pressure release cut in his eye was completely healed. He walked and spoke with a strong and graceful presence that could easily have been mistaken as the Alec from before his abduction. The only thing that was new was the worried and slightly panicky look on his face as he stared at Max.

"So, you're back," Max remarked with a shrug. "It's… uh… good to see you. Why are you looking for me?"

"I wanted to see you," he said quickly while stepping closer and looking at her with an inquisitive gaze. "Max, I heard what Dr. Carr said."

"Really?" she responded with a blank look. "About what?"

"About what?" he scoffed. "He was talking about a baby."

"Was he?" she shrugged.

"I'm not deaf or blind," Alec said looking at her with a stunned expression. "Max, you're pregnant."

His voice sounded both naive and confused, like the reality of this was impossible to fathom. He looked back at her with bewildered eyes as his jaw hung open slightly in amazement. Like when she watched him sleep, there was something innocent and childlike in his expression. Max knew, considering the scene before him, that lying was pointless so she simply nodded, reminding herself that he had no idea of his possible involvement in the pregnancy.

"You're having a baby," he said again, with disbelief as he blinked several times.

"Yeah, that's what pregnant means, genius," she nodded. "I'm sort of laying low with the info right now so I'd appreciate it if you would just forget you know, okay?"

"Why?" he asked.

"Why?" she repeated then paused. "Well, there's still an unofficial open season on people with barcodes, Alec. Or has running around with Lydecker made you a true blue soldier again so that you don't think anything unless it comes from him?"

"I haven't been running around with Don Lydecker," he scoffed. "I was… Where I was isn't the point. You… this… That's… That's the topic right now. I mean, it's one thing not to advertise to people who don't know you, but, Max…."

"It's complicated, Alec," she replied. "You know, now is not really a good time in my life for mood swings and weird cravings so I do what I can to get through the days. It's also a pretty bad time to be bringing anyone into the world and let's not even mention what a bad idea it is to be less than nimble and agile on my feet."

She edged herself off the table and started toward the door, but Alec grasped her arm and stopped her. He looked at her with fear in his eyes. His heart was hammering in his chest. This was not the reunion he had expected.

"Who's the father?" he asked bluntly.

Max scoffed and looked at him with contempt, trying to play the moment off as sarcasm from him gone wrong. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but he did not let go of her arm.

"That's not an answer," Alec said. "Max, why did you ask Dr. Carr if the baby would be immune if the father was a transgenic, too?"

"Curiosity," she replied.

"Or is it because you think Logan's not the father?" he wondered.

"Just what kind of woman do you think I am?" she asked evasively as she started to walk out of the room.

Alec remained in place but spoke loudly so that even though she was in the hallway when he did so, she could hear him clearly.

"Max, I remember," he said.

She stopped in place and paused. Max turned slowly and re-entered the room. Alec turned to face her and saw her wide and shocked gaze.

"You remember what?" she asked swallowing hard. "Falling into the water from a sinking ship? Asking me to give you a wet T-shirt contest showing?"

"That and the hotel at Crystal Mountain," he said. "You shared my bed, and I made love to you. I remember it."

"That was…," Max began.

"Months ago," he asked. "Who's the father, Max? Is it Logan or me?"

She stared back at him, her jaw hanging slack for a moment. She had a multitude of emotions raging inside her. She was mad he barged into her private appointment. She was glad he was back, but she was suspicious he wasn't telling her where he had been and how he came to be so miraculously well again. She was elated he had his memory back, but also scared because it meant her neat little world of denial had just fallen apart. She was also sad and anxious that she could not answer his question.

"I don't know," Max said simply and looked at his probing stare and took a steadying breath. "It could be either of you."

Alec nodded, taking the answer stoically. He took a deep breath, discarding his plans for the evening, and then looked at her with a probing stare as he asked her what he now needed and wanted to know most.

"Well, who do you want it to be?" Alec asked.

"What?" she shook her head and shrugged. "I don't get to choose you idiot. The deed is done."

"Not what I asked," he replied. "I asked if…"

"I heard you," she said shaking her head and backing away from him. "What I want isn't an issue; and even if it was, I don't know. This is my situation, okay? I still need to talk to Logan. I haven't told him yet."

"So you think it's his," he surmised and sounded hurt.

The angst she heard in his voice and saw on his face stabbed at her as much as it surprised her. Even in her best case scenarios, she expected Alec to politely bow out of contention for responsibility on the child's creation. She looked back at him with the knot in her chest moving swiftly to her stomach. It tightened painfully and raised tears in her eyes.

"Why haven't you told him already?" Alec asked. "You've obviously known for a while."

She huffed at his use of the word obviously. She adjusted the loose-fitting shirt—the one that looked a bit like a small tent when she hung it up to dry—over her rounded belly and folded her arms over in an effort to hide the drastic change to her silhouette.

"I'm taking care of things my way," she said tersely. "I told you. It's complicated. Logan deserves to hear the news in person, from me, not over an shaky cyber feed."

"Or by eavesdropping in hallway," Alec offered.

"Maybe if I'd known where you were or that you were even considering coming back," she shrugged. "Besides, I'm not really sure how to tell him that there is a question about who is responsible for the other half of the child's DNA."

"So, you never told him that you and I…," Alec began.

"No," Max snapped. "I didn't. I didn't get the chance. A lot happened right after we got back, okay? Terminal City got hit and you were missing."

"Since then?" Alec asked.

"Back off, Alec," she said, walking away.

"What about me?" he called after her. "When were you going to tell me, Max?"

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N: Still more to come. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 13)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Drama]

**Notes**: I am seriously in danger of missing all my deadlines for my novel, but I feel an obligation to you, my fanfiction readers, so I will make you the promise that I will not let you down at least. Thus, here is the latest chapter. Only a few chapters left before the conclusion. After that, if the writer's block continues, I might dip into my half-written tales based on "Supernatural" and see if anything in those files is worth publishing.

**# # # #**

The sultry evening wrapped its sweaty arms around Max as she stopped outside of the abandoned parking structure and into the still and funky air of the street. There were no street lights, no open businesses and no apartments in this area so departing without being seen was relatively easily. Not that Max was concerned about such things. She wanted a confrontation at that moment. While she promised Carr she would not pick any fights and wouldn't step in to play Wonder Woman in normal circumstances, she was certain he could not find fault with her defending herself if someone else started something.

Max fumed with anger at Alec, but she wasn't exactly certain why. Yes, she was glad to see him. She was pleased that he at least looked and sounded like the Alec she knew. Whether he was actually healed, still possessed his transgenic abilities or was planning to stick around were remained unanswered questions, but the course of their brief conversation took the focus off him long before she was prepared to place it on herself. She clenched her fists in fury and ground her teeth together as finally the sky opened up and sprayed a tepid and dirty rain down on her.

_Great, even the clouds of pissing on me tonight_, she shook her head and trudged onward.

The downpour became torrential within minutes, filling the streets to look like small streams and making the air smell like wet, stale garbage. She didn't think things could get worse until there was a sudden blare of a siren and flashing lights filled the narrow street. A sector cop patrol car was beside her and ordering her to remain where she was. Max cursed quietly under her breath as she reached for her bag to pull out her pass, only to realize, she left her bag back at Carr's underground clinic.

_This keeps getting better_, she thought. _Why is it whenever Alec is in the vicinity, everything goes downhill so fast?_

The only thing she had going for her were the tears that seemed to fill her eyes without real provocation lately. She thought of the cream cheese bagel she was planning to have once she got back to Logan's and how now she would get late getting it and voila, sufficient water works to make even the storm look a little paltry. She turned to face the glare of the headlights and the flashing strobe and wigwags on the patrol car.

The patrol team was out of the car and approaching her. They faltered in their steps as they looked carefully at her. She was obviously not who or what they were expecting on this stop. They glanced at each other then back at her. Max, making her lip quiver as she placed her hand in a position to most prominently show off her maternal curve, sniffled loudly and looked back at the cops. She was about to speak when another set of headlights, this pair from behind her whipped up to the curb. The tires squealed to a halt and a car door opened.

"Honey, I said I'm sorry," she heard Alec say behind her. "I'll apologize to your mother in the morning. She just gets on my nerves, you know that."

Max turned and looked at him with a sneer. He rushed over to her side and handed her the bag she left behind at the clinic then took off his coat and held it over her head to keep the rain off.

"Sir, is there a problem?" one of the cops asked.

"Yeah, my mother in law is… a joy to be around," Alec said tensely. "Just a little family drama. Nothing to worry about. Sweetie, you need to get inside where it's dry."

He nudged Max to turn around and walk back to his vehicle with him, but the cops were not yet done.

"Hold on," the other called back. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

If she was still feeling petty and vicious, Max knew she could easily say no and have Alec dealt with by these apes in uniforms. She felt relatively certain that he would have had his barcode lasered off before returning to Seattle and if they brought him in and printed him, they would see that he was either Benjamin or Alec McDowell—one missing and wanted for murder; the other, a world-traveler who shared an unfortunate resemblance to a man wanted for serial murder. However, since the Jam Pony standoff in which he was seen as one of the hostages and possibly identified in police records thereafter as one of the sleeper transgenics who had roamed the city undetected for so long, she could not risk it.

"I will be, if he agrees he was being a total ass and that he's lucky my mother and me put up with him," she offered. She saw a muscle twitch in Alec's cheek that she read quickly as a signs of a well hidden smirk.

"Fine," Alec said. "You're right; your mother is a saint, and she should absolutely move in with us. All right?"

He looked at the cops and rolled his eyes. From the pudgy jowls on one of them, he guessed the guy was married. Someone obviously fed the mountain of flesh regularly; the slack jawed expression he sported made Alec doubt the guy under stood the directions "just add water" so someone else was likely in charge of feeding time for him.

"You should get her home," the chubby patrolman said, nodding knowingly at Alec. "This isn't a great neighborhood to wander around in, especially in her condition."

"Thank you, officer," Alec nodded and steered Max toward the rusting jeep he had found parked on the side street adjacent to the medical clinic.

As long as the owner didn't notice it was now missing and call it in during the next few minutes, they would make a clean get away. Oh, and there was the issue of Max actually continuing to play along and get in the vehicle. She looked at Alec crossly as he continued to play the doting and concerned spouse, helping her into the passenger seat. She had half a mind to crawl over the gearshift and drive off without him as he closed her door, but opted not to simply to avoid any more discussions with sector cops for the evening.

Alec slid behind the wheel and took them swiftly out of the area. He navigated through two check points, offering up a sector pass of his own and flashing the one she carried. They arrived back in Logan's sector. He let her out of the vehicle in front of the ramshackle dwelling and drove off. Whether he was returning, Max did not know for certain until 15 minutes after she got inside. She was coming down the stairs, toweling off her drenched hair, when Alec entered the house, soaked to the skin.

"Ditch the stolen car?" she asked.

"About six block away," he nodded, shaking water from his hair.

He looked at her expectantly then sighed as she simply stared back without a word. He sighed explosively and headed up the stairs. He returned a few moments later with a towel of his own draped around his neck. He stripped off his pull over and wrung it out in the kitchen sink then returned to the living room to sit on the couch.

"What's wrong with you?" Max asked, spying the trembles in his form. "Are you shivering?"

"I guess," he nodded rubbing his arms to get the warmth back. "So?"

She shook her head slowly as she looked at him with increased concern. He looked better; he looked healed, but he obviously was not. Transgenics ran an average body temperature of 101.7; it was roughly 88 degrees outside and pushed into the 90s by the humidity, despite the driving rain. Shivering was something ordinaries might do after being drenched and getting chilled, but the heat of the night didn't dip anywhere near the chill zones.

"What?" he asked, growing uneasy under her scrutiny. "So I'm cold. So what?"

Max shook her head and sat beside him on the battered and sagging couch. She wrapped her arm around him, feeling the chill of his skin against the heat of her own body. In her mind, she was doing a quick inventory of the house. There were a few blankets in a closet upstairs that probably weren't too musty of moth-ridden. She would fetch them in a few moments when his lips looked slightly less blue. Instinctively, she pressed the underside of her wrist to his forehead, checking for evidence of a fever and received a robust laugh from him for her efforts. She glared at him for the outburst.

"So you've got that whole maternal thing going on with more than just your figure," Alec chuckled.

"You're frozen, Alec," she snapped. "I'm making sure you don't get hypothermic again."

"I'm just a little cold," he said, sliding his arm behind her and holding her close. "Although, I can think of a few things that might warm me up a bit."

Max shoved him back and scoffed disgustedly. She glared at him with a sour expression, feeling once again the old and familiar agitation he used to raise in her.

"Oh, come on," Alec pleaded. "Where's your sense of humor, Maxie? Didn't you miss me even a little?"

She turned her head away. She thought she had missed him, but suddenly she wasn't sure. She had worried about him, been terrified he would succumb to his injuries and ailments. She was still muddled on what her feelings for him had been or might be at that moment. Their time at the resort at Crystal Mountain seemed a lifetime ago. Folding her arms self-consciously over her rounded belly, she realized in some ways it was that long ago.

"Where have you been?" she asked sullenly. "Joshua's letter said only Lydecker was taking you some place to get better. What happened?"

Alec shrugged and looked back at her with a guarded expression. It was his guilty look that let her know he was hiding something.

"Man kept his word," Alec said. "Deck took care of things. Now, I'm back."

"Not exactly what I asked, Alec," she pointed out. "Where were you?"

"I can't tell you," he said. "Max, there are still some secrets out there. I'm not sure what I should disclose; hell, I'm not even sure I even know… what I think I know. I was somewhere that knows how to fix Manticore-style problems. What Renfro did to me… they reversed it."

She looked hard at him. His expression was unreadable, which was not an encouraging sign. It could mean that he wasn't sure what happened to him; it could mean he wasn't cured; it could mean they did much more to him than he was saying. Max sighed and shook her head at the possibilities. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know the answers.

"So your secret hideout is what Manticore Part Two?" she asked. "Lydecker starting up the program again?"

"Lay off Deck on this one, Max," Alec advised. "He saved my life. Maybe that's doesn't rate in your world, but with me, it scores points. Besides, it's not like he was that bad in the first place."

"Not that bad?" Max asked in disbelief. "The guy was a monster who made our lives…"

"You only knew him as a child, and a scared one at that," Alec cut her off. "You left Manticore before things got interesting."

Max glared at him, not sure which Alec she was talking to; he was sounding a lot like the arrogant ass she first met in a cell at the Wyoming compound, the true blue soldier sent first to be her breeding partner (the irony of that was not lost on her in this moment) and then sent to bring her back after she was set up to deliver a lethal virus to Logan. Anger burned in her eyes as she leveled a dark and distrusting look at him.

"Interesting?" she shook her head. "You know, I've never understood your lack of obvious hatred toward Manticore and what they did to us children."

"Oh, Manticore, yeah, them I basically revile, no problem," he shrugged. "Deck's not Manticore."

"Deck?" she repeated heatedly. "Deck? What? You're best buddies now? What the hell did they do to you?"

She slid off the couch and put some distance between them. She did not feel precisely afraid or wary of him, but her mind sad she should. He had been, essentially, in the enemies' hands for weeks and was now back singing the praises of the man who was once charged with hunting her down like a rabid animal. Alec was a master of thievery and schemes; he was also a smooth liar when it suited him. There were other times when he avoided the truth, mostly when it was painful, she knew. He kept those scared feelings so well buried that it amazed her the way he could lead the double life, making the rest of the world believe he was comfortable and at ease without a fear of anything. She, however, had seen past the façade a time or two. Why he let her—and there was no doubt in her mind, she only knew these things because he allowed it—was a mystery.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Max," Alec said. "I'm still me. I just… Lydecker isn't something that scares me. I'm not always a fan of the guy, but he did me a solid on this so I'm thankful. Gotta give credit where it's due."

"The guy is a double-crossing monster," she said.

"Actually, he's an overly disciplined type-A personality with a bit of a savior complex," he corrected her. "Of course, you'd know that if you didn't still see him like you did when you were a little kid."

Max shook her head and took another careful yet casual step toward the door. Alec shook his head and remained seated.

"You never had the chance to see the whole thing in right perspective," Alec explained. "You were stronger and faster than him and the goons he had guarding us, but you were still a kid. They trained you to think and act like a soldier, but you were just a child. That child ran away so everything you thought and that you thought you knew about Deck froze when you left. It never grew up so your fears remained. Trust me, if you'd been there when you were older, you'd know."

"Know what?" she asked.

"The pleasure and the power behind seeing them through more grown up eyes," Alec said. "I gotta tell ya, there's really nothing that feels quite like the satisfaction of the first time you saw fear in their faces because you finally knew how strong and invincible you were compared to how weak and frail they were."

Max shivered, but not because of the temperature in the room. It was the chill in Alec's voice; they were the words of a cold-blooded predator who did not care or worry about anyone or anything harming him because he knew, instinctively, that he was the top of the food chain.

"I didn't want to stick around long enough to find out," she said. "I just… couldn't."

"I recall," he said. "I got tossed into Psy-Ops for six months when you all decided to go walk-about."

"And that didn't make you afraid of them?" she scoffed. "Give it up, Alec. Who are you trying to impress?"

"No one," he shook his head. "I'm not saying I wasn't scared some of the time. Hell, yeah I was. The things they did to us, to me, that's not bedtime story material, Max. I know I don't even remember all of it; I'm glad for that, but know what helped me get through and helped me beat them at their own game? Knowing I wasn't the only one who was scared. I saw it in their eyes. I heard it in their voices. They were afraid of us and what we might do. They knew they'd built something that could destroy them, swat them like mosquitoes if we decided to turn on them one day. Why do you think they created that scorched earth protocol? It wasn't just because you ran. They were our captors, not our masters. I think if you'd ever had the chance to stare Don Lydecker in the eye from across a procedure room and heard the quickened and worried pace of his heart, been able to smell his fear because, even after you were going to be cut free of the restraints, he knew you were simply choosing not to tear his heart of his chest, you'd feel differently about him. He's just a man after all."

Max looked at the distant and primal look in his eyes. It was a cold and calculating look, not unlike the look she recalled in Ben's eyes when he told her he had to kill all those people.

"I think you should go," she said plainly.

"Max, are you scared of me?" he asked, smirking as he remained seated in a non-threatening pose.

"I don't know what I feel about you," she said honestly. "I just know that it would be best if you left."

"No," he shook his head and stood up from the couch.

"What do you mean, no?" she asked.

"Is there a new meaning for the word?" Alec wondered. "No, I'm not leaving. Look, I've got nowhere else to go. Technically, the house is still more Joshua's than Logan's, and Josh told me I could crash here. Besides, he said he wanted me to check on you."

"You check on me?" she remarked doubtfully.

"Yeah, watch your back," Alec said and tilted his head to look at her fully. "A bit bigger job now than I was anticipating but…"

"I can beat you back into a coma if you like," she scowled. "Where is Joshua?"

It was the other question she desperately wanted an answer to; the transhuman left allegedly to watch over Alec, yet the patient was now back without his canine bodyguard. She feared for whatever predicament the Big Fellah was left in when Alec made his departure. Prior to this night, she would have doubted Alec would leave Joshua behind, but he seemed a bit more like X5-494 than Alec at the moment.

"He stayed behind," Alec said and saw the worry flare in her eyes. He chuckled and smiled easily. "His choice. He's having a… family reunion of sorts."

He then looked at a watch she had not noticed before. It was black and sleek, but not a fashionable style. It looked a little more athletic or space age than the flashy, high end time piece she would have expected him to favor. He noted he noted the attention and shook his sleeve over the watch, cloaking it from sight. Max shook her head and focused again on the subject that interested her more.

"I'm the closest thing Joshua has to family," Max said.

"Those Mommy hormones are making you a little territorial," Alec observed with a smile. "I'm like family to Josh, too. Distant family, but family all the same."

"You're the kind of guy who keeps alive the saying you can pick your friends but you can't pick your family," she said with a curled lip.

"Get some rest, Max," Alec said unhelpfully as he walked past her toward the basement door. He casually yet gently touched her arm as he did so. "That old cot still down here?"

She shivered at his touch. Whether it was revulsion or excitement, she did not know. Rather than wait for a reaction from her, Alec descended the stairs humming softly. Max wrapped her arms around herself tightly and wondered what to do. She didn't know if she was being paranoid, but she felt there was something off with Alec.

**# # # #**

Max woke early the next morning and determined she should be up before Alec was moving about the house for the day. She did not have plans or a reason to leave the house that day, but the idea of remaining in it with possibly a bizzaro world Alec who might suddenly flip on her and try to drag her back to some lab was definitely not on her schedule. There were not many places she could now hide in Seattle, but that didn't mean there were none.

Carr would not like approve, but the sewers were an option. She was hesitant to go underground. She was not as nimble and light on her feet at the moment as she had been previously. If Carr was right (and if the child was Logan's) the only thing protecting it from the dangers and disease of the outside world appeared to be her own immune system. While hers was not compromised, Carr seemed to worry the strain of the pregnancy might begin to weaken and break down her own defenses somewhat, leaving the fetus more vulnerable. If the child was fully transgenic, it stood a better chance as both parents were immune and their genes were specifically geared toward withstanding hostile living environments.

As a precaution and plan for a quick and discrete exit, she packed a small duffle bag and placed it by the back door. She was making a little noise as possible, making the most of those silent feline motor skills as possible when she heard a voice coming from the basement. She perked her ears and realized there were in fact two voices. One was certainly Alec's. The other was one she did not recognize. It sounded hollow, tinny and distant. The voices was that of a man. It was deep and accented; it also sounded old as the speech was slow and deliberate. Max remained very still standing just above a vent that traveled between the living room and the storage area of the basement as she listened.

"It's blue," Alec said in a pained and breathless voice. "I did the test twice. It was blue both times. That means what?"

"Interesting," the accented man said.

From the crackle when he spoke, Max discerned he was conversing on a cell phone turned to the speak phone setting. She could not place the voice with the accent, but something told her she had heard it somewhere before.

"Not really," Alec gasped. "Painful, mostly, and I've never found my own pain all that interesting. So, I'll ask again: Do I inject or not?"

"Such a funny boy," the voice responded. "Humor was not something I ever considered. Interesting you developed such a…"

"Yes or no, Doc?" Alec demanded.

"No," the so-called doctor replied. "Do not inject. Wait an hour. Then check again."

"It'll be five hours since the last treatment at that point," Alec said. There was a hint of desperation and fear in his voice.

"Not to worry," the voice counseled. "Your temperature is up again?"

"It's 100 flat," he replied. "It was down to 98 last night after I got soaked in a rain storm. It came back up a few hours later. I did a double injection as soon as the monitor turned yellow and registered 100. It didn't go above that, or if it did, your gage didn't signal it."

"That's alright," the voice said. "Keep monitoring. You mustn't take the treatments when your body is too cold. The enzyme will not work other than causing damage. However, if you become chilled again, and your temperature drops below 100 for more than six hours, you must return immediately."

Alec sighed and agreed. Max suspected if she could see his face, it would be filled with the fear and anguish she could hear in his voice. Her own fears of Alec having returned as a rogue soldier were now fading only to be replaced by a new fear: He had lied about being cured. Whatever was wrong with him still needed treatment. Whoever Lydecker had taken him to did not put him back together again. Not completely anyway.

"Did you find your friend?" the voice asked.

"Uh, no," Alec said. "I looked where I thought she would be, but she wasn't there. I have a few leads. She's still around I'm sure. I just haven't seen her yet. Why?"

"Curiosity," the accented replied. "Joshua, I believe, would like to speak to her."

"Oh, right," Alec answered. "Well, tell him that I'm sure she's alright. She's just… busy. Max always has something going on. I'll probably catch up with her today if I can get all this under control. Tell Josh not to worry."

"He will appreciate the consideration," the voice said. "Call on schedule to report your progress."

Alec disconnected without agreeing to the order. Max heard the phone disconnect followed by a slight whimper. Worried and intrigued by her eavesdropping, she moved swiftly to the basement stairs and descended without making so much as a creak on the aging staircase, glad that despite her new proportions she had not lost all her stealth abilities. She stepped around the now shrouded piano to see Alec sitting on the battered cot near the far wall. A black bag she realized he must have stashed in the house prior to going to find her at the clinic, sat open on the bed beside him. There were two a small devices beside him. One looked like a micro computer; the other a military style injector for providing rapid inoculations. She also saw a few dozen small vials with a violently pink liquid in them laying inside the black case. Alec's head was tipped back, resting on the wall. He was sickly pale and beads of sweat were blistered on his face. His chest was heaving as he tried to control his breathing and there was an ugly bruise—like a sadistic hicky—on the side of his neck.

"What's wrong with you?" Max asked abruptly.

Alec sat up quickly, snapping his eyes in her direction, and sending his bag with the secret serum spilling onto the floor. He swore violently and dropped to his knees to gather up the contents.

"What the hell, Max?" he demanded. "Can't a guy have a little privacy? I thought you wanted to get away from me last night."

She moved to help him with his gathering but was quickly rebuffed.

"Just don't touch anything," he ordered angrily. "Just… go away, okay?"

Max shook her head and folded her arms as she stared down at him. She'd seen junkies on the street react this way when their stash was compromised. Another thing she noted was Alec's movements. Unlike the jerky and clumsy motor skills of a junkie, Alec was not shaking. He was, however, moving rather slowly—or at least slowly for someone who should have lightning fast reaction times.

"You're not you anymore," Max said with a gasp.

"Really?" Alec growled as he finished replacing the vials in the protective foam core of the bag. "Who am I now? Do I get to choose? I have a list of people I'd rather be, if case you're curious."

"I mean, you're not… Sam said you weren't an X5 anymore," Max recalled. "He said your body wasn't behaving like a transgenic's body should. It wouldn't heal. You still can't."

"I'm healed," he said tersely as he sat back on the cot and stuffed the medical kit pointlessly under his pillow.

"No, someone fixed your wounds, but you didn't do it yourself," she shook her head. "What did Renfro do to you?"

Alec scoffed and rolled his eyes. Leave it to Max to kick him when he was already down. He had come back, eager to see her and hopeful she would feel the same way. What he found instead was a lot more than he bargained for. First, there was a lot more of Max; he pictured her a lot during his recovery, but pregnant was never one of his visions. Next, she was not remotely as happy to see him as he was hoping. Finally, she pushed him away the previous evening like he was a double agent with his cover blown and now she wanted him to recite memories of torture that left him barely the man he was before the white-haired witch nabbed him on a darkened street.

"Change the subject," was all he could say as he buried his face in his hands.

**# # # #**

Max backed away from Alec at his request. Her fear from the previous night remained, but it morphed into concern for Alec rather than for her own safety. The odd and unstable vibe she was getting from him wasn't a plot or scheme he was trying to run on stealth mode. He was merely keeping a secret from her. He wasn't cured. He was still receiving some clandestine treatments, self administered, but from his call to the mysterious doctor, things were not going well.

Max's worry was only increased as she tried again to talk with him about the strange instruments and serum, but was rebuffed. At first, he simply ignored her. Then he tried deflecting her concern with transparent lies and finally, when both her patience and his was at the breaking point, he changed the subject to something she did not want to discuss.

"Why do you care?" he asked. "You said you've figured it out, that I'm not a bad-ass super soldier, so what's the problem? You can snap me in two if want so I'm not a threat."

"Because I…," she scoffed. "Because you're… I'm a caring person."

"Caring?" he repeated. "What kind of caring are we talking here?"

That question was one that kept Alec from sleeping much or well the previous night. Seeing Max again was one of the things that kept him going as he endured the painful treatments to extract the enzyme Renfro had injected into him and saturated into his systems. He didn't recall for the first few weeks why he was so eager to see her. Then, as the seizures and waves of agony began to subside, memories locked in his traumatized mind began to unfurl. By the time he was able to recall their time at Crystal Mountain, he was making plans to leave the treatment center whether he was ready or not. The ache in his chest had nothing to do with injuries or toxins being leached from his tissues. He wanted to see her, he needed to see her. The rage of jealousy that she was with Logan while he was wallowing in a hospital bed in a far off compound being treated like a favorite lab rat nearly made him explode. Lydecker, sensing he was about to make a break for it, divulged some much comforting information: Logan Cale was still on the other side of the country digging up answers about the breeding cult's infiltration of the U.S. government.

That was the stage when the doctor began the final round of treatments. This was the trickier, if less painful, part of the process. There needed to be a regular schedule of injections into Alec's system to jumpstart the recently repaired DNA strands into firing on the proper cylinders. It needed to be a precise regimen of injections at certain intervals under certain body conditions, starting with his temperature and continuing through a series of blood chemistry requirements. Alec agreed to suffer through a final round, but when Lydecker said he did not know any news on how Max was faring on her own, all thoughts of his own recovery ended. Alec demanded of his physician if he could survive without the treatments and whether there would be any chance to restart them.

The news was what he expected: He could survive, most likely, but without his former immunity, speed or strength. He was also vulnerable to all ailments humans were as his systems were in a reboot mode, perhaps more so as he did not have the benefit of having developed antibodies or receive vaccines as most humans his age would have. He could not receive the vaccines now if he wished to continue the treatments to make his body remember it was a transgenic.

The good news, he thought, was that his barcode had faded naturally. The bad news, of course, was that if the treatment halted at this stage, it would end forever. The doctor told him it was likely that he would eventually succumb to a minor infection as his body simply would not know how to fight it. But Max was alone with no one watching her back. At that point, Alec would have even been glad if Logan was in Seattle. He, at least, would be some help to her. The thought of her there, in a place where the breeding freaks had destroyed their safe haven and killed so many of his friends, was more than he could handle. He told the doctor that his own survival was not important. Seeing that Max could get out of the city and find a new place to hide was his mission.

The determination in his voice was sufficiently convincing. The doctor threw together a travel kit for injections that would last two weeks. After that, Alec had to return so he could be assessed and a new round of serum tailored to his latest test results. If he missed a single dose or did not return on time, the game was over.

When he returned to Seattle, finding Max was his only concern. Discovering her, and her burgeoning secret, changed his plans. Originally, he was going to spend 10 days convincing her to return with him to the doctor's compound then, hopefully, he would end up fully cured and they could… see where things went from there. Discovering she was pregnant nixed that idea. Alec trusted the doctor enough to let the man treat him. He didn't think his trust extended to letting him (or Lydecker) know that Max was carrying a child. The question of whose child it was created a different ache in Alec's chest. Whether it was fear the child was his or fear it was not, he did not know. That debate wrestled him from his much needed sleep and did not leave him at his best the next day.

"Since when do you want anything more than a one-night stand?" Max asked sourly. "What I care about is getting answers when I ask questions.'

"I know the feeling," he said hotly.

"Then maybe you understand my curiosity about your little science project in that black bag," she said. "Are you going to tell me to change the subject again?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Alec replied boldly. "You want me to talk about something I don't want to talk about, then let's do the same to you. So, Max, whose the father Logan or me? You really don't know?"

She looked away from him. She wasn't sure if it was the anger she heard in his voice or the hurt she suspected she saw in his eyes that she found hardest to stomach.

"I really don't," she said sourly. "The odds are on Logan. After all, you and I… That was just one time. I know you're impressed with yourself but…"

"One night, two times," he corrected her. "And yeah, I think there's a chance it's me. My guys probably swim faster."

"You arrogant, egomaniacal…," she began shaking her head.

"Yes, I am both of those—and with good reason, but that's not the topic right now," Alec agreed. "What are you going to tell Logan?"

"I don't know," she huffed. "That I'm pregnant, obviously."

"He's not that stupid," Alec offered. "He'll figure that much out on his own. How are you going to break it to him that he's not the father?"

"I don't know that he isn't any more than you suspect she's yours," she argued.

"She?" Alec shirked.

"It's a guess," she said confidently. "What? You only want the title of Daddy if it's a boy? Way to go on the caring front, Alec."

He scowled and shook his head. His fatigue was getting the better of him as was the overall ill feeling he got when it came time for another injection. They were painful and the after effects were as well. There was a huge fever spike for roughly two hours along with shaking, nausea and high pitched ringing in his ears. The pain made him feel as if his bones were breaking and his nerve endings were on fire. He usually broke out into a cold sweat just before receiving the injections as he anticipated the agony.

"I don't care if it's a…," he began wearily. "You really think that's a girl?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "I do. As for Logan, I never got the chance to tell him that… that… you and I…"

Alec looked at her and tried hard not to smirk or feel victorious. There was no reason for that feeling. Her not telling Logan she fell into Alec's arms and his bed, completely of her own volition, didn't necessarily mean much. He had hopes, but hope, he knew, was a fragile and fickle thing.

"Stop that," she snapped at him, glaring at his smirk. "I was ashamed of myself and what I'd done. Feel superior now?"

"No," Alec replied. "I never wanted you to feel that way."

"Well, I did," she sneered.

He reached out a comforting hand and placed it on her arm only to have it batted away. She looked at him angrily, making him recoil. She had not looked at him quite that way since the night she thought he had murdered an ordinary and was forced to tell him about his brother Ben's deadly hobby of stalking and hunting down people so he could kill them and extract their teeth as trophies. It hurt, worse than the injection side effects, for her to look at him that way again. He looked down solemnly.

Max sighed and hung her head as well. The mood swings she had were nearly lethal and should come with some flashing warning lights, she thought. She had very little notice when she was going to go from not having a bad day to weeping over a soggy newspaper to going ballistic on the guy at the bodega who sold the last bag of Swedish fish she had been craving.

"Then Terminal City got attacked," she said, softening her voice as she watched him smart from her sharp tone and words. "Then you were missing, and Logan left for Washington. I haven't really talked to him in a long time. I mean, we did talk, but it isn't about… It's always business and… I had a lot going on. I was caught up in…"

Alec looked up, hearing the warmth in her tone and the contrition in her words. The right side of his mouth curled slightly in a pleased smile.

"Taking care of me," he nodded. "Your secret lover and the father of your child."

"Stop that," she shoved him back and gasped exasperatedly. "Look, I only told you first because… I didn't have a choice. You barged into my appointment with Sam. I'd have lied and said I knew the baby was Logan's if I had known you would get this like. Let's be clear about this point: This is my baby. It probably has nothing to do with you."

"You slept with me, Max," Alec reminded her in a light and teasing tone. "That wasn't nothing. I didn't force you. I didn't trick you. I offered; you accepted—with great gusto as I recall—and you were going to come back to Terminal City with me the night OC and I got jumped leaving the rave."

"I wasn't," she shook her head. "I went home with Logan that night Alec. I spent the night with him."

Ale looked back at her, surprised and shocked by the information.

"Why?" he asked simply.

Even he heard the desperation in his voice and thought it sounded weak and vulnerable—two things he did not want Max associating with him. Max looked away, stung and surprised by the pain she saw in his eyes. It was one of those rare looks from Alec that was completely honest; it spread across his face and shone from his eyes so quickly he was unable to mask it. When Max looked back a moment later, it was gone, replaced by a practiced smile as she he shook his head. He pushed down the cold knot in his stomach and reminded himself that he was confident in his memories of that evening at the rave and what occurred in the hotel just a few days before it. That was what he would hang onto until there was nothing left.

"Max, you don't love Logan," Alec said boldly.

"Yes, I do," she assured him.

"Really? " he challenged. "You mean to tell me that you feel for him what you feel for me? I don't believe that. You can't tell me that he makes you feel the way I do, the way it is when you are with me."

He reached for her and took he her hand. He squeezed it and pulled her closer to him. She did not resist, although from the slight pressure on her hand, she knew she could do so with very little physical effort. However, the physical strength needed to push him away was not the problem. The uncertain and fearful fluttering in her chest told her that she did not know what to do. Max swallowed dryly and slipped her hand out of his. She wasn't prepared to have this discussion with herself yet so she certainly wasn't ready to have it with Alec.

"I love Logan," she said firmly.

"Maybe, but you don't only love Logan," he asserted. "That night meant something to you Max, I know it did. I could feel that, but this thing between us, it isn't only about that night."

"Alec," she scoffed loudly, "for the last time, you don't know that the baby is yours."

He shook his head and fixed her with a piercing gaze from his misty green eyes.

"That's not what I meant," he said. "You ever notice how I'm the one who is here with you, always. No judgments. No expectations. I helped you rescue the other Manticore escapees over the last year. I fought with you at the standoff at Jam Pony. I stayed with you at Terminal City. I backed you up the whole way. You think I did that for my health? You think I couldn't have jetted out of this town and found someplace else to be under the radar? I did all that to be with you, Max. I did all that so I could be there for you."

"Logan is there for me," she countered.

"Where is he now?" Alec asked quickly. "Off on one of his Eyes Only crusades. I'm not saying he doesn't have good intentions. Hell, the guy's a saint, but he's got a lot of things that get his attention. Max, I'm the one who would do anything for you."

She shook her head, frustrated and agitated by the discussion but seeing no way out of it short of running out of the house.

"Logan does a lot for me," she countered. "He's been there for me longer than you have."

"But I'll be around longer," Alec promised, and hoped he could follow through on that. "I don't want to change you or fix you. Even when you're kicking my ass—sometimes even for things I haven't done—I wouldn't change you. Why? Because I think you're prefect just the way you are—even that stuff about you that drives me nuts, I wouldn't change."

"Alec, you're just being competitive," she shook her head.

"Not the way you think," he shook his head. "I want you to be precisely who you want to be. You want to be a soldier of fortune, I'm there making connections with arms dealers for you. You want to be do-gooder helping the poor and sickly, I'll put together an underground network of thieves to get you what you need. You want to be Mother of the Year, I'll… Well, I don't know what you need for that, but if you tell me, I will find it and get it for you. With me there are no judgments, no lessons, no moral crusades. I just want you to be… you. Even when you're cold to me or you don't trust me or you think the worse of me, it doesn't change how I feel about you."

Max's head was swimming and her stomach was churning like it was full of tadpoles in a frenzy. To make matters more uncomfortable, the baby decided it was time for calisthenics and began doing jumping jacks on her bladder and kidneys. She shook her head, overwhelmed by the conversation and wanting it to end.

"No," she shook her head and started to walk away. "Just stop. Alec, we are not having this conversation."

"I'm not going away," Alec called after her. "Max, I'm in love with you."

She stopped dead on the remark. She looked at him and scowled.

"You think I'm going to fall for that, from you?" she laughed. "Yeah, you're a lover and a fighter, alright, but you're not a keeper, Alec."

**# # # #**

Alec disappeared not long after Max bit his head off while giving him her assessment of him and his proclaimed feelings for her. She felt terrible before her feet hit the top stair, but her pride wouldn't let her go downstairs to apologize to him. She needed to cool off. The last thing she wanted was to tell him about mood swings and end up sobbing on his shoulder. He'd surely make a conceited remark and she would likely want to hit him. Given her impulse control and his withered strength, it was likely to turn out badly all around. So, she remained upstairs. A while later, she heard the back door close. She ventured back downstairs and found the house empty.

Most dishearteningly, when she looked in the basement, she saw Alec's black bag was gone as well. She thought about calling him to ask if he was returning—just so she didn't attack him if she mistook him for a burglar—but then realized she didn't know his cell number currently. That brought a heavy feeling to her heart and left he sitting at the desk with a spoon and jar of peanut butter. It was pretty tame as cravings go, but luckily, it was easy to satisfy.

She was nearly finished the jar when the front door opened. She sighed with relief and was prepared to offer a partial apology to Alec for her sharp words earlier. She turned to face him and was shocked when someone else appeared.

"Surprise!" Logan said, beaming at her as he saw her shocked expression.

Max gaped at him, her chin dropping as well as the spoon that she held just above the nearly empty jar of peanut butter.

"Logan?" she said.

"So you do remember what I look like," he grinned. "Here I thought I'd been gone too long."

She remained seated at his desk, the furniture acting as a solid barrier between them. He looked at her questioningly.

"Hey, why is Alec sitting in a car parked at the curb?" he asked. "I'm glad he's okay and all, but he looks like he means business. Don't tell me you guys planning to stage a heist."

Max looked instinctively over her shoulder toward the street and could see Alec leaning on an abandoned car, his arms folded, glaring at the house like he was guarding it. She shook her head, glad he was still in the city at least, but turned her face back to Logan as another unforeseen conversation was on the horizon.

"No, we're not; he's just…," she said, hating the thought of a saying 'protective detail' that is essentially what he was doing. "Outside."

Max wasn't physically afraid of what Logan might do when she told him the full story that accompanied her news, but she suspected that Alec might be. From his expressions and words over the last 24 hours, she got the feeling he had taken a protective (perhaps overly protective was better word) posture toward her. It was infuriating to her that he thought so little of Logan considering the man never did anything to harm him and even took his side occasionally (not that Alec knew this). It also angered her that he thought so little of her ability to take care of herself—especially in light of the fact he was basically an ordinary himself at the moment. Still, in some small way she was touched that he was trying to put her needs first. That sentiment was of course slightly tainted by her knowledge that Alec probably also did want Logan to react badly simply to further his own chances with Max.

"Okay," Logan nodded. "Well, if he likes it outside, so be it. I mean, a chaperone was not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to see you as soon as I got back, but as long as he stays out there."

Logan stepped closer to her, but Max held up her hands, halting him in place.

"I need to tell you something," she said urgently. "I wanted to tell you this a while ago, but you were in Washington, and I just felt like I needed to tell you face to face."

"Okay," he said cautiously. "Are you okay? You seem a little… anxiously."

"I'm not really a little anything right now," Max said as she exhaled slowly and looked him directly in the eyes and just spilled the news without any preamble. "I'm pregnant.'

Logan looked back at her as if the words didn't register. He blinked several times with a lost expression on his face. He tilted his head to the side and appeared to be replaying her words in his head for comprehension.

"I've known my condition for a while—since not long after you left for the East Coast actually," she explained feeling guilty. "I probably should have told you before this, but you had work to do and I needed time to think."

She waited for him to react. It was a slow process. He stared. He blinked. He ran his hand over his face and then finally smiled and looked at her with a shy but excited expression.

"Are you serious?" Logan asked.

"Yes," she said, standing up and rubbing the bulge at her waistline. "This look serious enough for you?"

"Oh, wow," Logan gasped and nodded then exhaled quickly and shook his head.

He stepped around the desk and pressed his hand cautiously to her belly before hugging her tightly. He then kissed her. Max politely pushed him away and tried to step back as he again rubbed the bulge at her waist and smiled.

"This is…," he grinned foolishly. "We're having a baby. This is… fantastic! I mean, it's a shock… I mean surprise, but it's a good one. Are you feeling okay? Is everything alright with you and the baby?"

Max took a deep breath and stepped back. She kept him at arm's length as her gut twisted with anxiety and guilt.

"Wait," she said halting his joy. "That's not the whole story. You might want to hold on to your happiness for a minute."

"Why?" he asked. "Max, you're worrying me. What's wrong?"

"My baby and I are fine," she said, nervously wringing her hands as she confessed. "Logan, I don't want to hurt you, but you deserve to know the whole truth. You should sit down to hear this."

She slid the desk chair over to him and gestured for him to take it. He did so reluctantly as he stared back at her mystified.

"Okay," he said sitting cautiously. "What's bigger news than… this?"

"You remember back when we did the BioCorp conference?" she said. Logan nodded. "I was with Alec at the resort, and things got screwed up so we had to share a room."

"Yeah, I recall," Logan said, remembering how chilly and awkward things were between them for a while afterward. "So?"

"So, while we were there, something happened… between us," she said feeling her insides shiver with guilt. "Between me and Alec."

"Something?" Logan repeated aggressively after a long pause. "Something between you and… Oh. So you and Alec… what, took the undercover part literally? That kind of something?"

"Don't say it like that but… yeah," she nodded. "It wasn't planned. I told you how things… got weird between us."

"So in your world the word weird is just a euphemism '_hey, I had sex with Alec'_?" Logan said coldly. "So how many other times did you sleep with him?"

Max shook her head and did her best not to fall into a defensive mode. She was not looking for a fight and reminded herself Logan was entitled to some anger at this moment.

"There weren't any other times," she said. "Logan, I was going to talk to you, to tell you the whole thing, but then Terminal City was attacked. Look, what happened between Alec and I was an accident."

"And accident?" he repeated. "I don't understand. What happened? You tripped and fell onto him naked? What part of this was an accident?"

"It just… happened," she said. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but then everything happened at Terminal city and Alec disappeared."

"Yeah, it's always something with him, isn't it?" Logan seethed. "He's got some deal going that you need to pull him out of; he goes missing and you need him to find him; he gets a little banged up and you need look after him like a poor hurt puppy. You know, I could deal with all that. I guess I just didn't realize it also meant you needed to screw him because you got bored when you two were away from the office for the night!"

"Hey," she snapped. "It wasn't like that. Alec and I…"

"Oh, so there's a you and Alec now?" Logan asked. "I'd say I'm shocked, but somehow I'm not. How long has this been going on, Max?"

"You think I've always been unfaithful?" she asked.

"Well, I've wondered about his intentions since the day I met the guy," Logan scowled. "I guess I've wondered about your feelings for him for a while. I knew something was off between us. Of course, I didn't realize how off."

"You really think that we've been carrying on behind your back all this time?" she asked. "Is that what you think of me?"

"That's mostly what I think of him," Logan replied.

Max heard the door open and feet coming down the hallway. She and Logan turned simultaneously to see Alec looking at them with a wild expression. He moved quickly to Max's, placing himself between she and Logan.

"Max, are you okay?" he asked, keeping his eyes narrowed on Logan.

Logan glared at him and felt a rush of anger. Veins in his temples protruded and threatened to burst as his skin turned an vicious shade of red. Muscles in his jaw quivered as he stared at the man blocking Max from his view.

"I'm fine, Alec," she sneered elbowing him out of the way. "Go back outside."

"No," he shook his head.

"A little late to play the hero," Logan taunted. "You're supposed to save the damsel in distress not knock her up and ruin her life."

"So we're agreed this whole baby thing has nothing to do with you?" Alec said in return, offering a sly and challenging grin. "That settles that, huh, Max? Let's go."

She growled and pushed her way between them. She placed a palm flat on Logan's chest, nudging him backward as he and Alec glared at each other willing the other to take a swing. From his stance, she didn't suspect Alec would comply with her gentle nudge to back off so willingly. Instead, she gave him her best 'I'm pissed look.' He withstood the glare so she threw a touch of a perturbed 'please' hiss through her clenched teeth. In response, he rolled his eyes but stepped back.

"Just trying to help," he said softly.

"Then go back outside and stay there," she scowled. "I'll be fine."

Alec glared back at Logan, a warning the other man reflected back at him. He then slowly walked away. Max folded her arms and waited until she heard the door close. She looked toward the street, but did not see Alec. She suspected he was merely standing on the porch just outside the door. She shook her head and scoffed.

"You don't need a bodyguard—not to protect you from me," Logan said sounding tense and a touch embarrassed.

"I know that," Max said confidently. "I didn't ask him to appoint himself my guardian. He did that on his own. Truth be told, I was more afraid of what you two would do to each other a minute ago. Pretty pathetic slap fight at this point, I'd guess."

"Slap fight?" Logan asked. As far as he knew, Alec (even without a weapon) could dispatch him easily. He looked back at Max then nodded knowingly. "So his time MIA left him as Superman no more. What a shame. Guess he'll have to learn how to be a pathetic ordinary like the rest of us."

"It's not a reason to gloat," she said quickly. "I don't know how serious it is."

"Right," Logan nodded as he smiled painfully. "We wouldn't want poor, sweet, innocent Alec to have what's coming to him, now would we?"

"I get it, you're pissed," Max said. "I know some of it is at him, but a lot more of it should be at me right now so let's leave Alec out of it."

"Too bad you didn't feel that way a few months ago," Logan sneered softly then hung his head, evidently sorry the words tumbled over his lips.

Max shook her head and turned to leave. In a choice between pointlessly protective Alec pretending he still could hold his own as an Alpha soldier and Logan reveling like a conceited teenager at the unfairness of his life, she'd take the moron on the porch at the moment. Max said as much as she flipped a dismissive wave over her shoulder as she began to leave. Logan sighed explosively and begged her not to leave.

"I don't have to put up with either of you," Max assured him. "I get it, this is hard for you to hear and process. Guess what? Not really easy for me. I'm sorting living the business end of this little fiasco. You think I'm enjoying this? I got someone I don't know living on my insides and using my bladder as a pillow and my ribs and kidneys as kicking targets. So, if you want me to feel sorry for you, that's gonna have to wait until I can find the time to feel your pain."

"Okay," Logan relented. "Just… bottom line things for me. Are you telling me you're carrying Alec's baby?"

Max shook her head as she faced him with a solemn expression. She shrugged and shook her head at the same time.

"No, I'm telling you that I don't know," Max replied. "I've been with you, as you know, but I was with him one night. According to the timing, there is a chance he is the father; there is a chance you are the father. I just thought you had the right to know."

Logan hung his head and nodded his acknowledgement. He looked at her, his face a mixture of pain and confusion. Max returned the expression with a touch of sorrow. She did feel badly, for both men, but their reactions had her off-kilter. She had expected some angst and offense from Logan, but she thought it would be quickly replaced by optimism and understanding. Instead, she got resentment and accusations of perpetual infidelity. From Alec, she had expected shock and denial of his possible culpability with an immediate retreat to some place far removed from the topic. Instead, she received surprise and an almost oppressive loyalty coupled with a proclamation of a feeling she really had not heard from Logan. She attributed Alec's odd reaction to his recent brush with death and his overall lack of familiarity with fully understanding what it meant to be responsible for something other than himself. Logan, however, truly surprised her. If he had been harboring doubts and worries about her and Alec, he certainly never hinted at it previously.

"I'm sorry about this," Max shrugged. "This is a mess. I would give anything not to be putting anyone through this, but… It is what it is right now."

"Did he take advantage of you?" Logan asked. "Subdue you? Get you drunk? What?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm as much to blame as he is. If you want to hate someone, hate me."

"I could never hate you," Logan replied.

"You sure look and sound like it right now," she said.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm having a little trouble adjusting to the news that the woman I was about to ask to marry me," he began and placed a ring box on the desk top, "just told me she's pregnant, and I might not be the father."

Max stared at the small, velvet box and felt an odd mixture of resentment, sorrow, elation and confusion. She didn't know how she would have reacted if he had asked her to accept the ring.

"Or you might be," she said.

"Anyway to find out?" Logan asked.

"Does it matter who is?" she wondered.

"To me, it does," he replied. "What did Alec say when you told him?"

"What do you care?" she asked.

"I just do," Logan said sourly. "You apparently bounce between the two of us so I am left to wonder what we have in common other than that we both sleep with you."

"That's low," she shook her head.

"So is cheating on your boyfriend," he replied in a hurtful tone. "How did he react? You still think he's worth all this time you spend with him?"

Max shook her head and looked back at him with frustration and a touch of pity.

"I'm not having that conversation with you," she said.

"He doesn't seem to be in your favor either," Logan observed. "I'm guessing all those superior genes didn't come with the urge to be much more than a sperm donor, huh? What a surprise."

"Actually, he was surprised but quickly claimed credit," Max said. "From his skulking, apparently he felt he needed to be here with me when I told you. I guess his suspicion was right that you might be a little pissed."

"Did you actually think I might hurt you?" Logan asked aghast at the possibility.

"Maybe he was here for you," she said. "Maybe he I thought I might hurt you if you were an ass."

She looked back at him coldly. She wasn't impressed with either father candidate at the moment. She was tired of feeling like territory each was trying to claim. Apparently, neither understood that she could easily decided the role of father had been fulfilled months ago and was no longer necessary to this production. She glared back at Logan who eventually sighed and dropped into the chair, slouching.

"What do you want me to do?" Logan asked.

"Nothing," she said dejectedly. "I'm telling you precisely what I told Alec: I'll handle this my own way."

"Fine," Logan said. "Well, how do we go about finding out?"

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Who the father is," Logan continued. "Do you need blood for a test or something?"

"I'm not having a test done," Max replied. "If my baby doesn't need it for health reasons, I'm not having it tested for anything. I was a lab rat until I ran away from Manticore. If you think I'm going to test my child for the sake of simple information, you're…"

"You don't care who is the father?" he asked incredulously.

"I know that it doesn't matter who the father is because this is my child," she said. "Does it matter to you?"

"Of course, it matters," Logan said.

"You couldn't love my child unless you were the father?" she asked and shook her head. "Guess it's a good thing I found that out now before you gave me that ring. I really thought you were a better man than that, Logan. I thought you loved me."

She left without letting him explain, back peddle or apologize. She walked up the stairs, threw her few belongings into a bag then walked out the front door. She toss a few choice words of warning at Alec and continued down the street as the sun began to set. She knew Alec was following, at a safe distance, so when she rounded a corner far ahead of him, she put on a burst of speed and disappeared down a side street, certain he had not been able to follow, so that she might disappear to be away from both men.

# # # #

Both Logan and Alec spent the next few days attempting to locate Max. She was careful, however, and covered her tracks well. Logan spent hours watching hover drone footage and traffic cams searching for signs of her. Alec hit the pavement on foot, looking at all her old haunts, in hopes of finding someone who would have seen her. His first and best hope was Original Cindy's apartment, but he was told by her neighbor that OC had been out of town and it was not known when she would return. Further, the neighbor was certain no one was staying in the apartment as the neighbor let herself in to water the plants and use the tub.

Alec was bedding down at Carr's medical clinic. He gave the doctor his understanding of the injections he was receiving, which both confused and fascinated the man. Alec expressed his gratitude to Carr for keeping him alive until Lydecker shuttled him off to the specialist. Carr would not accept the thanks, but he did accept the bogarted medical supplies from an old black market contacts that Alec dropped on his desk to help pay his debt. He also considered leaving his body to Carr for study if the injections didn't work. Even if his autopsy and dissection didn't help the man learn more about medicine, he probably would find it fascinating. Alec shrugged, slipping a note under his pillow to be found if he happened to die in his sleep willing his remains to Carr; after all, everybody needed a hobby to keep them sane.

By the fourth day of looking with no luck, Alec was watching his remaining days before he needed to hightail it back to the specialist's compound slip away. With no other others, he decided OC was still his best bet. He tracked down Sketchy on a Jam Pony run in Sector 2 and wheedled some information out of him. He didn't like following up on it, but he had no choice. Finding Max was too important.

He followed Sketchy's intel and arrived at the creamy white door of the clean apartment building. With a sick and sour feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with his morning injections, Alec knocked and leaned dejectedly on the door frame. Presently, the door opened to reveal a man, fresh from the show, wrapped only in a green robe and sporting an expression that went from perturbed to delighted almost quicker than Alec to identify either emotion.

"Who is…," Normal began angrily then beamed. "You're here! I mean, hi. Alec. My dear, dear old… friend. What are you doing out there?"

Normal peered suspiciously down the hall and put his hand firmly on Alec's shoulder, ushering him quickly into the apartment.

"Is someone following you?" he asked suddenly in a quiet voice. "Do you need a place to hide? You can stay here. My bedroom is through that door. You can lay low in there."

"No," Alec shook his head firmly. "No. I will not be laying, low or in any position in your room. Ever."

"I'm here for you," Normal said.

He placed his hands firmly on Alec's shoulders as the tie to his robe slipped a bit. Alec looked away pointedly then shrugged off the man's grip. He shook momentarily, getting the feel of his fingers off his shoulders to fade then turned back to his former boss.

"Normal," Alec began, warily looking around the man's apartment hoping not to see any pictures of himself, and when he didn't worried there might be one in the bedroom, "Sketchy told me that you know where Original Cindy is. I need to find her."

"Let me help you instead, Alec," Normal beamed and ushered him inside. "I heard you were a little under the weather a while ago. Nothing too serious, I hope."

"Right, yeah, I'm fine," he shook his head. "Long story, okay? Look, Original Cindy. Where is she?"

"What do you need her for?" Normal asked, thrusting his chest out and holding his chin high. "I can help you. Whatever you need, my dear friend, ask and you shall receive. I am your most humble servant."

He placed his hand firmly over his heart and looked at Alec with a besotted and devoted gaze. Alec felt a shiver race from his arm to his stomach turning it and sending sour vapors into his mouth. He looked away and nodded mechanically at his former boss.

"Right, well whatever, I think only OC can help me," he said. "I'm actually looking for Max, and I figure there's a chance Max is with her."

"Oh, no, I don't think so," Normal shook his head. "I told her where the Nubian Princess was a few weeks ago. I don't think she left then. She's not exactly in fighting form, if you follow my meaning. She's shown her true colors finally; she's conceived a child and is under the delusion that she should raise it herself."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Alec said tensely. "And she won't be doing the raising on her own, so careful with the judgment."

"You know about her?" Normal gaped. "So… Does that mean that you… Oh, no, no, no." Normal cried loudly and wildly then moved toward Alec and buried his face into Alec's shoulder. "Not her and you. No. No. No."

"Normal," Alec said uncomfortably.

"She's ruined you, tainted you, spoiled your pristine and perfect essence," he moaned, patting Alec's head as he continued to rest his head on the man's shoulder.

"Normal," Alec barked loudly then roughly jostled the man backward. "You're touching me."

"I know," Normal sighed and smiled sadly, gripping it intensely. "I know."

"Where can I find Original Cindy?" Alec demanded.

Normal sighed and wiped his eyes. He looked back at his favorite cage fighter then shook his head sorrowfully.

"She's back at her apartment," he replied as Alec nodded and turned to leave. "She got back the other day and promptly called in sick. She has to be back at work tomorrow or I'll fire her for sure this time."

**# # # #**

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews! More to come. Oh, and for any Supernatural fans out there, you may have noticed that I turned normal into Sam's superfan Becky. Cheap steal, but it just felt right.


	14. Chapter 14

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 14)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: The weather didn't cooperate—we've had a nice stretch that didn't give me any time to write… but I found it anyway so I wouldn't leave you all hanging too long. The finish line is in sight… but we're not there just yet. Still more to come.

* * *

**# # # #**

A soft rain pecked at the windows of the dilapidated house. They gray, peeling paint was a sad reminder of the home's better days. The porch sagged (as did the roof) and even rats thought twice before moving in. Sure, they did it, but it was only until they could find better digs when their luck turned for the better. Water drooled over the lip of the roof, leaving puddles in the muddy trace that should have been the sidewalk. Still, the sole human resident didn't mind. Despite what the rest of the hellhole looked and smelled like, you really couldn't beat the view.

"I have something," Ames White said into his phone as he peered out of the grimy (yet amazingly) unbroken windows.

He was not happy with his new taskings. He wasn't happy with his new partners—not that they acknowledged they were partners in this. They thought he worked for them. They were, of course, wrong. Pathetic, frail, greedy, ordinary and randomly conceived humans. They were weak and wanting. They were needy; they needed him. They knew it; they were just too arrogant to admit it.

He had been on the run, sort of, for nearly a year. His own people, those who were his true family, had turned their back on him and blamed him for the intrusion of media and investigators into their lives, their world. Their bank accounts were frozen. Their identities catalogued and backgrounds researched. They were forced to run, to leave their lives (their cover lives) in the dark of the night so they could regroup and plan. And they blamed him for it.

Yes, he was the one who was identified by the senate subcommittee first as belonging to the so-called cult. How he went from the heroic and brave whistler-blower who warned the world about the threat that was the Manticore transgenics for being the poster boy for something worse remained a mystery. He had his money on Logan Cale, the extra pathetic and ordinary human who needed an exoskeleton to amulate. Or at least, he had needed it. White's intel said he had ceased needing it sometime ago but apparently did still employ it for an unknown purpose. White figured it was for his own protection—a little boost of speed and strength just in case. That was wise, in White's mind. The guy might just need it sometime—especially if White's former brethren caught up with him, which they might do, just not with White's help. No, his mission was much different now.

He was all about survival. His survival and the survival of his own line: His son. White no longer cared what happened to his former so-called family. They threw him to the wolves when the government began asking questions they couldn't answer or deflect, then they ran like scared mice. He was left in the wind with no resources to find his son or protect himself. So, he did what a few centuries of breeding selection taught him: Fend for himself with the best offer possible because survival was everything. _Fen'stol that assholes_, he thought.

"What do you have?" the sneering and annoyed tone of the white-haired harpy he was working with crackled over the call.

"X-452," he said then paused. A knowing smile played across this thin lips as he waited.

There was a lengthy silence on the other end. He knew this freak's location was all they wanted. They didn't care about anyone or anything else. They wanted that abomination for themselves. Whether it was to build another just like or chop her up and put her in a jar, he didn't care. He and his employers were in business for one reason only: They wanted the same thing, just for different reasons. White wanted to find 452 because she knew were his son was. His business partners could have her afterward. He had been looking for a way to get to her since his fellow cult members failed to destroy the entire compound referred to as Terminal City months earlier. Prior to that, he had spent several months trying to put together a network of contacts to help him find his son. This was made doubly difficult by an unwanted stay in what he thought of as the enemy's camp.

He had been too soft, he knew, and blamed that on the years he spent with his wife. When he brought his brother back into custody and back to the cult's compound, he had set up a different location for his brother. CJ was insane and dangerous because he thought he knew what was right. He was a stain on their family's lineage, but he was still family and White felt his brother could prove useful because of CJ's knowledge of their father, a brilliant and eminent geneticist. Dr. Ezra Sandeman needed to die. That was the second order of business after finding his son, in White's estimation.

The old man had screwed up finally. White was nearly convinced the twisted bastard was dead until his safe house for CJ was hit by some commandos. If stealing CJ was all they had done, White could have lived with that. Hell, taking CJ off his hands (maybe even killing him if it came to that) would have been a favor in the end probably, but they didn't stop with absconding with his little brother. No, they neutralized him as well. He wondered, as he woke in the bright but barren room with an electronic tracking device on his ankle, what was the point of holding him hostage as surely no one would make a swap for him. The place hardly seemed like a torture chamber with is muted colors, tolerable temperature and clean appearance. Then he heard it: the cane.

The old man walked right into his room, or cell or whatever it was supposed to be, and looked at him with those watery and disappointed eyes. He had the audacity to call him son and thank him for looking out for his brother. White sneered at the memory.

"Did you hear me, White?" his partner demanded again over the phoen, a huffy and agitated tone in her voice. "I asked you where she is?"

"Hidden, but I've nearly got her tracked," he said evasively, dragging his mind back to the job at hand.

He sat in the derelict building opposite the target house, the one that made him want to grind his teeth when he recognized it: the house where Cale now took up residence. The audacity of the man to move into White's childhood home and let that transgenic filth walk the floors and do who knows what else with her in their rooms—hell, he probably bent his slutty, little, kitty over a chair in White's old bedroom, he thought with a nauseous twist to his gut.

"Then grab her," Renfro snapped. "This isn't rocket science."

"I said she's hidden," he replied. "I have a solid lead. I should be able to… grab her soon."

"Just tell me where she is and I will have my team do it," she replied.

"No," he answered. "Your team botched picking up 494. Nice job, by the way. Word is that he's back in Seattle again and blending in nicely."

"Meaning what?" she asked.

"He doesn't register on a thermo-sensor anymore," White explained

White actually spotted 494 in the market district a few days earlier. He followed the transgenic for a few blocks and was amazed to see that his body temperature registered like an ordinary. From the way he struggled to get up a fire escape like a normal person, he'd lost his Speedy Gonzales skills as well.

"I'm amazed he survived," Renfro said. "We should have dosed him a little more. I guess Don Lydecker did get her in the nick of time."

"Lydecker?" White snarled. "He's the one who sprung your pet from the lab? Huh."

"Why?" Renfro asked, not sure why that was relevant.

As far as Renfro was concerned, White was just an operative, a convenient tracker—one of many—scouring places high and low in various cities for X-452—and not proven as one of her best. It had been months since he had a good lead. The only proof Renfro had previously that didn't die in the attack White's freaky family tree launched on Terminal City was a sketchy report from the now deceased James Cranston. She wasn't really sure that was a solid bit of intel anyway. For someone known for going straight at her target when one of her people was in enemy hands, 452 had remained very much on the sidelines while 494 was being worked on; Renfro had other reasons to doubt Cranston's reporting. He had suggested that 453 and 494 had developed something more than a working relationship. From Renfro's point of view, that was unlikely because the lovely and effective virus cooked up in one of her labs was no longer keeping 452 and Eyes Only apart.

"No reason," White said, keeping is voice flat rather than give away any information he wasn't ready to part with yet. "I just thought he was dead."

"Unfortunately not," she sighed. "For a bonus, I would like you to kill him if you can. Ship his head here in a box, would you?"

"If the opportunity presents itself," White said with a yawn as he looked down the street to the quiet house. "Cale is back in Seattle. He's untouchable for the moment. The guy so much as gets a cold and the government is going to lock down this city. I'm going to watch and wait. I'm certain 452 will make contact."

In fact, he knew she had. He had used a parabolic microphone and listened to Cale on the phone with her. It was an awkward conversation in which he was beseeching her to return and begging her to forgive him. What he had done wasn't apparent, but there was something weak in his voice. She didn't bend as easily. The lover's quarrel was apparently ongoing as she had not appeared at the house since Ame's located Cale staying there two days earlier. That's when he set about seeing which of the other mutants might be prowling the streets still.

He knew the dogman was still in Northern California at the compound that White escaped from a few months earlier. He'd heard his deep yet child like voice, calling Sandeman father. White wanted to vomit at hearing that. His skin crawled and heated bursts of anger raced through his blood. Father. No. They were not related. The seven foot tall bow-wow boy was not family. He made sure to tell him that when he incapacitated him during his escape. He hoped the bones took a long time to heal.

White smirked at that. He was actually thinking about it—in between considering kicking a stray dog he saw in an alley in the market district—when he by chance caught sight of someone who looked uncannily like X5-494. He followed him for a while, listened to him talk, and (despite the negative reading on his heat sensor when pointed at the man) determined it was the wayward transgenic.

"Keep me apprised," Renfro said. "I'm not a patient woman. You find 452 and you bring her to me—alive. I don't care who or what you have to do in the process. Oh, and when you do, I may have some information for you."

"Such as?" he asked, surprised. Renfro never provided him with anything other than orders and disdain.

"There's been some progress on your son's location," she said. "Get me 452, and I think I can make you very happy."

White didn't bother asking for more details. He simply disconnected. He doubted Renfro knew more than he did. He was using her, not the other way around. She provided funds and resources when he needed them. Whether she was actually looking for his son was a matter of debate. White didn't care. He knew two people knew the answer: Cale and 452. Cale was off-limits because of his friends in high places. That left the abomination from his father's lab: X5-452. He was going to carve the answer out of her as soon as he got his hands on her.

White smiled at the thought.

**# # # #**

The day broke over the horizon, hazy, hot and humid. The city was like a terrarium. The world was nearly misty with the dense air pushing down on everything and trapping sounds, smells and heat. Max huffed tiredly as she climbed to the seventh floor of the building she used to call home. That was one part of pregnancy she was not used to: the trouble she was having with her balance. It seemed like every day she needed to find a new calibration as she expanded overnight. It was tiring in a way she was not used to and forced her to move at a pace she considered slow; although, when she bothered notice those around her on the street, she noted they were all going at the same pace. Still, on days like this in which the air was thick like butter, everything seemed harder and slower.

She reached the door to the apartment and wiped a sheen of sweat from her forehead before she knocked then opened the door uninvited.

"Cin?" Max said as she stepped into the apartment.

"Hey, Boo, get in here," OC called over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen, pulling her hair up. "Long time, girl. I've got coffee. You interested?"

"Uh, no," Max said and scowled.

The truth was, yes, she was interested. However, Carr's instructions were to avoid the beverage. Max looked down at her belly and wrinkled her nose hoping someday the child appreciated the sacrifices she was making. Shaking her head and pushing the resignation out of her mind, she walked/waddled into the kitchen.

"It's been too long, girl," OC asked brightly as Max entered the room. "How you…?" Her question hung on the air as she stared back at her friend. "Holy bejesus on a cracker, Max!"

She looked at Max and her eyes bugged out of her head. The change in her friend's silhouette was obvious as was the root of those changes. OC gaped for a few minutes while Max simply looked back at her and shrugged.

"You in disguise or is that what it looks like?" OC asked pointing at her.

"Surprise," Max shrugged. "I… uh.. I've got some news."

"Damn straight you do," OC said as she continued to stare. "When did you get on the nest?"

"Uh, a while ago," Max answered.

"Apparently," OC nodded. "This is a good thing?"

"Well, I decided to go through with it," Max replied. "Whether it's good is another story."

OC rolled her eyes and threw her arms warmly around her friend, hugging and petting her hair without saying anything. The embrace said all Max needed to hear: If you're, happy so am I; I'm here for you. Max blinked back a threat of tears then took a seat as OC gestured to the couch.

"Well, if it's what you want then I'm glad for you," OC said genuinely. "Shocked but glad. You look tired."

"Growing one of these things takes a lot of you," Max said panting from her exertions.

"How long you got to go?" OC asked. "This oven looks fully heated and ready finish cooking."

"Nearly," Max nodded. "About seven weeks."

"Where you been keeping yourself?" OC asked. "Haven't heard a word about…. I'm sorry. I… I forgot about… Everything. I just…"

OC shook her head. She had been gone for a while, dealing with her own family drama, and the memories of what happened the night she ended up in the hospital had faded. One remaining question, the one that had given her nightmares until the loss of her aunt made reality hurt more than her unrelenting 'what ifs' about the night she and her chariot got jumped, came to her mind again.

"It's okay," Max assured her. "A few of us made it. Joshua, although I haven't seen him, made it out. Those that made it are on the run, I guess. No news is good news at this point."

"Max, what happened to Alec?" OC asked solemnly. Her face grew worried and her eyes misty.

"Long story," Max said with a pained sigh. "He's… okay, I guess. He's back here in Seattle. Somewhere. He says he's fine. He's lying when he says it, but he's a pretty good actor so I don't think it's obvious to anyone who doesn't know him like I do."

OC relaxed. She hadn't always been exactly fair or kind to Alec. She certainly didn't always like him, but he was like a blister in just the right spot on your hand. It bothered and annoyed you. It got in the way. It caused pain—hell, it was created by pain and friction—but you got used to it. It became a touchstone, a worry spot, something you turned to in some moments to put pressure on because you'd grown accustomed to it. After a while, it changed, without you noticing it, into a smooth spot or a callous, one that just seemed to belong there. Hearing he was back and sufficiently okay to fool anyone but Max was a relief.

"Good," OC sighed. "That boy is a pain, but there are worse kind of aches. Speaking of aches, you twisted up inside. You look… extra worried, even for you. That just you being baby-farm tired, or is something else wrong? You know, even a super hero mom needs to put her feet up sometimes, right?"

She kicked her feet onto the rickety coffee table and gestured for Max to do the same. Arranging herself more comfortably on the couch, Max did so, taking the pressure off her swollen ankles and sore back. She unconsciously rubbed her bulging belly and sighed.

"I'm okay, I guess," Max said. "I don't really have anything to do with myself right now other than sleep, eat and… grow."

"Damn girl, you a house already," OC observed. "I mean that in a complimentary way, of course."

Max chuckled along with OC and took the remark well. She had never considered herself vain. She was blessed with the hand-picked genes Manticore wanted for an X5, and they did not build that model to be ugly. She had been used to being considered attractive her whole life. She didn't rely on it; she didn't flaunt it. She just was. However, now, with her curves distended and the rest of her puffy and swollen proportionately, she was feeling self-conscious. She could feel people staring at her during the rare moments she was in public. She was certain she pulled a lot of gazes previously, but now she could feel them, and it felt awkward.

Logan had looked at her with a bright and joyful expression, at least at first. His tired eyes were surprised and excited. That, too, felt uncomfortable (although, she was certain some of that was because she had to break a less happy bit of news to him immediately after his radiating smile nearly blinded her). The cold and spiteful words that followed the rest of her announcement stung her still. She wasn't sure if it was the icy and judgmental look in his eyes or the viciousness of his words that hurt more. Of course, Logan's tone had done an about-face within 48 hours of learning of their group predicament. He had left her a dozen messages; she returned one simply to have him stop calling. She wasn't ready to speak to him yet, but she told him she would in time.

In comparison, she understood and expected Alec's reaction more—at least the first part of it. He was surprised, but his was more of a shocked expression—like he had been sucker punched and was expected to quickly block another blow or retaliate. That was when her confusion began. She first thought it was due to him looking for a way to shirk responsibility. She realized it was much the opposite when she acknowledged the possibility that Logan might not be the father. Then, his expression changed. There were two conflicting emotions playing out in his green eyes: hope and territoriality. She saw the hint of something primal in his eyes. The hurt and lost expression he displayed at first was quickly replaced by a protective and shielding stance, but not one for himself. Rather, it was for her.

"Boo?" OC asked, touching her arm slightly as she noticed her sliding from the discussion.

"Huh?" Max shook her head, dragging herself back to the discussion. "Sorry. Uh, yeah, things started getting crazy big recently. I was keeping it under wraps but then everything started busting at the seams." She yawned. "Sorry. It takes a lot out of me just getting through the day lately."

Original Cindy clucked her tongue in disappointment. She cocked her head to the side and affected an affronted tone.

"You mean to tell me that you this far along and your man's not doing his share of step-n-fetch to wait on you?" she asked. "What's wrong with him? Logan ain't as rich as he used to be, but he ain't poor neither. It's not like he works full time himself. Ain't seen an Eyes Only broadcast in forever."

"Well, I'm not exactly with Logan right now," Max said. "It's sort of complicated."

"Uh huh," OC replied and fixed her with a firm stare. "Something you want to tell OC?"

"Probably not," Max buried her face in her hands for a moment.

"Where is Logan?" she asked.

"Here in Seattle," she said. "He just got back from the east coast. He helped us, the ones who survived the attack on Terminal City, a lot. The military is more concerned about the breeding cult now, but Logan, uh, came home to some unexpected news. So, now I kind of need a place to stay for a bit, and I was wondering…"

OC didn't let her finish. She threw her arms wide nodding.

"Me and Su equals a casa, Boo," she nodded invitingly. "I'm flying solo here. Be good having you back. Just tell me this: Why you running from Logan? He's not happy that he's going to be a daddy? Or is he too busy saving everyone else's family that he don't have time for one of his own?"

Max shook her head solemnly and felt her tears of frustration and shame percolate beneath her lids. She placed her head in her hand for a moment.

"No," she said. "It's my fault. I screwed up."

OC laughed dryly and swatted Max playfully on the arm.

"No kidding," OC said. "They're called condoms, girl. Your little appendage-bearing plaything is supposed to wrap his most prized possession in one before he's in you. It prevents the need for all this wardrobe adjustment you going through."

"I know, that," Max sighed.

"Well, apparently, you forgot it because you and Logan must have got too wrapped up on the moment to remember to wrap up his member," OC noted bluntly. "Don't feel bad, girl. You ain't the first. Hell, that's how I came to be in the first place."

Max smiled wanly. She had never met OC's family, but from the way she spoke of them, she doubted they looked at her as a mistake or an accident. Then again, with her tough, I will kick your ass attitude, they were probably a little afraid of her as well.

"That's not the problem," Max admitted.

"Then what is?" OC asked.

"I'm not sure who the father actually is," Max replied and stood up agitatedly as she began to pace slowly.

She was agitated and tired of being trapped in a body that did not feel like her own. She had lived on her own for so long that sharing was not something she did well or often. Giving up her actual body felt a form of torture or imprisonment some days.

"Wha'chu mean?" OC asked. "Logan going through some mental crisis and questioning his true identity and purpose in life? What do they call it, mid-life psychosis or is he having some sympathetic hysterical man pregnancy?"

"No, I mean, I'm not sure if Logan is the biological father," Max swallowed.

"That's very funny," OC laughed. "Yeah, you a trashy party girl, Max. Waited nearly three years to do the dance with yo man but he maybe ain't the father? Ha!"

Max looked back at her with a solemn face and nodded slowly as a confession. OC blanched and stared for a moment.

"You straight up with me?" OC squawked. Max nodded. "Logan might not be the…? Well, who else did…"

OC stopped, the question in her mind drawing her to an answer that was both unbelievable and likely at the same time. OC could not forget first the sorrow in Max's face when she feared the downing of a ship had taken his life, and next, Sketchy's fantastic tale of a mermaid or sharkman breathing hope into her suffocating sorrow.

"No!" OC gasped. "Did you finally get down and dirty with Alec after all this time?"

"It was one night," Max said shaking her head and standing up, feeling the need to pace. "It just happened. It was… a mistake… I guess."

"You guess?" OC repeated. "Was it or wasn't it? You sit your pregnant ass back down right now, and tell me exactly what happened between you and Mr. Cheekbones, but leave out the sloppy bits because OC don't need those visuals running wild in her mind."

Reluctantly, Max gave her the highlights—things she had not disclosed to her friend previously—about how things had subtly changed between she and Alec over the last year and how that culminated with their stay at Crystal Mountain. OC listened. Her mouth hung open at first and she blinked a lot as the surprise washed over her. As Max continued, her expression softened and she found herself nodding and rubbing her friend's back consolingly. When Max finished, she sounded spent and looked that way as well when she buried her face in her hands and sighed.

"One question," OC asked. "You really not care who the father is or is there something else you're not telling me?"

Max looked back at her with sad and revealing eyes.

**# # # #**

Max felt drained after her confession session with OC. Her friend had gone to work, her mind heavy with information and details, that made her feel like her life, as messy and difficult as it could be some days, was still a sight better than others. She bid Max to have a good day and told her to lay low. OC would be bringing home dinner that night and they would continue their discussion after Max had a chance to settle.

It felt good being back in the apartment. It settled her mind and made her think of easier times, back when the greatest question on the horizon was whether or she would be able to heat enough water to fill the bathtub. Thinking of that, she peered into the bathroom and was gratified to see the claw foot tub still in place. She spent an hour and a half boiling water, knowing that by the time the tub was filled, the whole volume would only be warm, but still knowing it would be worth it. Max ditched her clothing in a heap on the floor and sank into the soothing depths up to her earlobes, noting with some interest that her new body mass displaced a sufficient amount of water that she actually had to stretch her neck a bit to keep her nose above the surface.

She rested in the warm waters, letting the tension of countless weeks and heart-wrenching worries release and try to float away. She rubbed the bulge in her middle and felt sorry for the creature in there and the hornet's nest of a world she would know when she finally greeted the sunshine. It was in the quiet moments that Max was most able to think about her child as a person rather than an obstacle or an issue. She feared for her—in her mind, she simply knew the child was a girl—and wished she could provide a better life for her. She thought she still might be able to do that once the child was born and Max knew whether she was cursed with an ugly birthmark on her neck. If the child was free and clear, Max knew the responsible thing would be to put her up for adoption.

Of course, that didn't seem possible now. Two men were eager to claim her and that would make giving her away impossible. Not that Max wanted to give the child away. She wanted to be with her, to raise her, to give her everything she never had: A home, a family, love, peace of mind and a chance at a real future.

But the idea that life with Max as her mother was going to make that impossible simply did not go away. If the child could blend in with an ordinary human family, Max knew, she stood a better chance.

It was a decision and a question she toyed with every night when she drifted off to sleep and each morning when she woke, feeling the little nudges and kicks from her offspring. It was an immense weight on her mind and twisted her insides into knots.

No answers magically floated to the surface as she steeped in the calm waters. So, when the temperature of the air matched that of the water, Max hauled her body out of the tub and wrapped herself in towels (she curled her lip as she noted she needed two to get the job done). Then exited toward the kitchen, but jumped in surprise when she learned she was not alone in the apartment any longer.

"A few more minutes and I thought I might have to dive in an save you," Alec said from his spot perching sitting on the sill of the open window.

Max settled her hand over her heart and took a deep breath as she scowled at the open window near the fire escape where the former cat burglar had apparently entered.

"Found me?" she said not sounding surprised.

"I have my sources," he shrugged.

"You've got your buddy Deck following me?" she glared.

"Calm down," he said easily, sauntering toward her with his loose limbed stride. "I talked to Normal. He told me Original Cindy was back. I did the math and…well," he shrugged. "Hi there. How have you been?"

"It's only been 48 hours since I saw you, Alec," she scoffed.

"I missed you, too," he offered, twisting his lips into a taunting grin. Max bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from returning the expression. "So you talk to Logan since you left his place?"

"Stop," she ordered. "I'm not going to get in the middle of a pissing match between the two of you."

"You don't think it's a little late for that now?" Alec wondered, but Max ignored him.

"You two start your chest thumbing and next thing I know, one of you is lifting your leg to pee on me like you're marking territory," she scowled.

"Should my non-human DNA be offended by that?" Alec quipped.

Max smirked reluctantly but gave him a hard stare to let him know she was going to resist his attempts at charm. Alec shrugged and continued to walk around the apartment, a pacing, cagey aspect to his movements.

"I was just curious if he had actually proposed to you or not," Alec said. He looked at her surprise. "Yeah, I heard that from the porch and saw the ring on the desk when he was in your face."

Max looked at him and wondered if it was the angry decibels in Logan's voice or the mention of a proposal that brought Alec into the house to stand between she and Logan two days earlier. She wasn't sure why that question occurred to her or why it mattered, but she wondered it all the same.

"You know," Alec continued, "you'd think a guy who truly loved you and pined for so long wouldn't waste another second once there was nothing in the way anymore."

"Nothing in the way?" she gaped and waved her hand toward her now-bulging mid-riff. "Hello. And whether I've spoken to him since or if he's asked is none of your business."

"The guy who wants to be the stepfather to my kid is my business," Alec asserted.

"You have no say in who I marry or don't, and you don't know that you're anyone's father," she growled. "I am the only parent that matters in my baby's life right now. Got that?"

"Reading you loud and clear," he replied playfully. "Not buying it or agreeing, but I hear you, Maxie. Is this one of those mood swings I've heard about? See, with you, it could just be you.. being you. I'm just trying to learn, that's all."

Max scoffed at his pronouncement then was unable to stop herself from laugh as he fixed her with a smug, undaunted, unapologetic, and (mildly) superior expression.

"He didn't propose," she said calmly. "I haven't spoken with Logan since I left. He's left messages with OC, but I'm avoiding him the way I was avoiding you."

"I'm more determined," Alec offered. "You might want to keep that in mind. It's a good character trait."

"Sounds a little like you're lifting your leg," Max said sourly.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, taking a long and lingering look at her. "You look good, rested even."

She felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny as she stood in the kitchen barely covered in bath towels. She looked chubby and felt decidedly unattractive. It was odd receiving a compliment on her appearance when she felt like a blimp. It seemed odder still to hear one coming out of Alec's mouth. He was the type who prowled the Seattle night scene previously for the hot and willing ladies. Whether they were available did not matter; his charm and looks usually got him whoever he wanted. Max could not think of a reason why he would be choosing her at this stage.

"I'm fine," she said. "Obviously, won't be entering any bikini contests any time soon."

"I don't know," Alec shrugged and leered down at her. "You've got a fair shot at placing in a wet T-shirt contest."

Max instantly drove her knuckles into his ribs, feeling satisfaction as he winced and doubled over.

"Is that anyway to talk to…," she began.

"The mother of my child?" he finished her sentence. "You're right. I'm sorry. I should speak to you with more respect."

"Alec, why do you want this baby to be yours?" she asked suddenly. She had wondered from the start. "You're not exactly the family type."

"Just because I haven't been doesn't mean I don't want to be or can't be," he shrugged. It didn't make a lot of sense to him either, but he trusted his instincts usually (even when they were not as sharp as they once were) and his gut was telling him this was right. "Look, I never had a family, Max. Never really knew what one was. My unit, we weren't close like you were with Zack and the others, but that doesn't mean I can't learn."

"But why now?" she asked.

He simply shrugged and gazed back at her with a plain and unassuming expression.

"Because I'm in love with you," he answered as if the answer should have been obvious. "I told you that already."

"I know what you said, but you're really not," she asserted. "Alec, this isn't just some contest for you to win. It's not a game of pool or a fight. A family is a lifelong commitment. It isn't what you play with until the next hot chick or big score comes along and steals your interest. It means sacrificing other things you want for the good of the ones you love."

"I know," he said nodding quickly. "You want me to give up something, say the word, and it's done. Max, whatever you want from me, whatever you need, I'll do."

His expression was sincere enough that she supposed even he believe his words, but she didn't. She couldn't. She sighed and placed her hand on his arm. He did not understand. His limited experience with actual, long-term relationships was stunting his ability to fully grasp what he was offering. Max looked sorrowfully at him and pitied him for a moment. Alec regarded her with a simple expression that said he truly believed it was as easy as speaking mere words. She shook her head.

"Alec, the chances are strong that you are not the father," she explained.

"I think you're wrong, but so what if you're right?" he shrugged. "What does that matter?"

Max blinked several times and shook her head in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she looked back at him in surprise. "How can it not matter to you?"

"I love you, Max," he said. "I don't know for certain who is the father, but I do know who the mother is, and she's the one I love. I want to be with you and being with you means this baby is part of the deal so, okay with me."

"You're saying you wouldn't have a problem with me having Logan's baby," she said.

"It's not the kid's fault who his father is any more than I'm to blame for who and what my parents were," Alec shrugged. "Would I prefer if the baby was mine, yeah, but that's just because the kid would be better off with my genes. But if I'm not the father, does it change anything for me where you or your baby are concerned? No. Why would it?"

He spoke as if he was explaining something obvious to a dull witted person: Yes, the sun is in the sky all the time; it doesn't live in an apartment in sector three.

Max gaped back at him with surprise and an overwhelming feeling. Whether it was pleasure, shock, arousal or something else entirely, she did not know. Alec looked at her confusion and shrugged again.

"Look, I'm telling you that I'm here with you for the long haul," he said. "You and me and your little person there makes three, right?"

Max hung her head and sighed heavily. She shook her head and looked at him wearily. She told him that she didn't need his help and would not be asking for it. This was her life and her duty. She would be taking care of whatever needed taking care of on her own.

"Well, you can't do this on your own," Alec said. Then shrugged and wavered. "I mean, you can. You're stubborn enough and generally bad tempered enough to try it just to spite me… or anyone else, but really, is it smart?"

"Is it smart for you to basically call me a bitch and think I'll enjoy your company?" she asked sternly but the playful glint in her eyes said she wasn't precisely mad.

"I'm deceptively clever," he nodded. "So, if you've got this figured out, tell me: What's your plan?"

"Plan?" she repeated with a shrug.

"Yeah, plan," Alec echoed. "Planning. Strategy. These things are important for any mission, Max. Tell me: Why are you going to do this all by yourself with no help when you've got people offering to be there with you, for you, whatever? I figure, if you're gonna shut me out, then you must have a better option. Since this is my family too," he said but hesitated as she glared and shook her head, "possibly, then I am simply asking for some basic details. Where are you going to live? How are you going to, I don't know, get money to feed yourselves? You have the little unimportant things like that figured out yet?"

Max swallowed hard and stared back at him. She didn't have those answers. The questions kept her up at night. The worry made her ache and fear she had made the wrong choice in going through with the pregnancy. She shook her head and felt her eyes betray her as tears again boiled to the surface. She wiped them back quickly and held her chin up trying to show a brave face, but her throat was tight and she didn't bother trying to sound brave when she answered.

"I don't know," she said in a thin, shaking voice. "Not really a good time for this, is it? Besides, what the hell do I know about raising a kid?"

"Uh, you know not to send him to military school at age one minute, for a start," Alec shrugged and grinned. Max scowled at him. "Come on, loosen up, Max. I think we both agree that pretty much everything after you get that right is a cakewalk. Seriously, we were both raised in a place that should never have been for kids and look how we turned out."

She glared at him flatly then stalked away to the bathroom. She hastily pulled on her clothing again as he continued to explain.

"Okay, maybe not the most inspiring or confidence building examples," he relented and pressed a button on his watch as it beeped suddenly.

She exited to find him waiting just outside the door.

"What's with you anyway?" she asked, taking note again of the strange watch he fiddled with but not remarking on it. "Since when are you interested in being a parent? Do you even like kids?"

"No, in general, I don't think so—not really," he shrugged. "Except for some reason this one seems different. Maybe it's just a chemical thing."

"I'm the one whose pregnant, not you," she said. "So how is this a chemical thing for you? Or is this part of that mechanical hicky you pretend you don't have?"

She looked accusingly at the bruised injection site at his neck. Alec tugged up the collar to his pull over and pointedly ignored the last question then adjusted his watch and continued his argument.

"I think it's protective instincts in my DNA," he shrugged. "We're a little wild, a little more primal, aren't we? It's like Animal Kingdom: The male protects his pack. Well, you're my pack."

"We have feline DNA," she corrected him breezing past him into the kitchen again. "That makes it a pride, not a pack."

"Whatever," he shrugged. "That's my offspring. So, naturally..."

"That's insane—kind of like you," she said. "There's no evidence that any X5 male feels protective of…. And, again, who says you're the father?"

"Okay, so maybe I'm not," he replied with a simple shrug. "Maybe protecting you is just something I want to do rather than I have to do. As for your claim that there's no evidence, that actually works in my favor, I think."

"Lack of evidence supports your case?" she repeated, turning to face him with raised eyebrows. "How can you possibly have a genius IQ and think things like that?"

"I'm pretty creative, aren't I?" Alec grinned and nodded. "Think about it, Max. This thing between you and me, it's never happened before with X5's. It makes us… special."

"No," she countered him sourly. "This thing, I mean, you and I… sleeping together…"

"I don't recall all that much sleeping," Alec grinned and brushed her hair off her shoulder.

Max shivered slightly and felt her face grow hot. There was a spastic fluttering in her diaphragm at did not come from her womb, although the child seemed to notice the rush and reacted accordingly. Max stepped back from him, folding her arms as tightly as she could without squeezing herself to the point of needing to rush to the bathroom.

"I mean that we did have several breeding partner results in TC," she remarked. "There was plenty of X5 action going on and none of them exhibited any 'protect the pride' instincts. So much for your theory."

"Exactly," he said snatching her words like they were agreement.

She stared back at him, shaking her head at the insanity. How Alec's head worked was always something of a mystery to her. Some of the time, he was breathtakingly clever, seeing a pattern or sussing out a hidden detail. Other times, he was spacey and moronic and made her wonder how he got dressed in the morning without help or how he crossed the street without being hit by a car. He watched the disbelief bloom in her eyes then shook his head as he explained further.

"Breeding partners, Max," Alec said solemnly. "Those were all assigned reproduction."

She stared back at him, remembering how she met him, her assigned breeding partner. She wanted to kill him, to beat him into a pulpy pile of goo the moment he introduced himself and stated his purpose in her cell. Now, he stood before her, sporting an expectant and confident grin, and she felt much the same way but for very different reasons.

"Look, they were ordered or in some cases forced to have sex in order to create new specimens," Alec continued. "None of them hooked up out of interest or choice. Their kids were conceived out of obligation. How many of the X5 women who showed up with babies or gave birth at Terminal City were still with their breeding partners?"

Max shrugged. To the best of her knowledge, the answer was none. Alec nodded.

"Any of those partners ever show up in the compound looking for their kids?" he asked.

Max shook her head. She didn't think so, but it wasn't a question she'd ever asked before.

"Doesn't exactly speak highly of the paternal instincts of the X5's does it?" she remarked with an acidic tone.

"No, it doesn't," he agreed with a grin. "Which actually makes me even more special."

"Special?" Max scoffed. "Yeah, but not in the way you think is flattering."

"I mean it, Max," Alec insisted. "I wasn't assigned to do this to you. I mean, okay, technically I was when we met, but that was way back. This is different. I offered. You agreed. So, you see what this means."

"That you're still overly convinced in your virility?" she rolled her eyes.

"It means," he said cutting her off and grasping her hand and held it, massaging it lightly as he did so, "that you're my… my mate."

"What did you say?" she asked, slowly tugging her hand back.

"I said you're my mate," he replied.

"We're human… mostly, not animals or lab rats," she snapped.

Alec flicked a quick glance at the watch on his wrist as it made quiet beeping noises that sounded like a heart monitor.

"You want to quibble about a word, fine, but that doesn't change the meaning or the truth," he said. "I choose you, Max. Don't give me that look. You chose me back."

"You're crazy," she rolled her eyes. "Alec, you of all people, know what a one-night stand is."

"I do," he replied assertively shaking his head. "That's not what we had. There's more going on between us than just a one-time fling."

Max shook her head and reminded him that it was just one night. She was beginning to wonder and worry about his memory since his injuries and alleged recovery.

"Yeah, I know we've only had one night together so far," he said, stepping close to her and placing his hand on her protruding belly. His mind was a blur of images from the afternoons spent harassing her in her office, to the nights he spent staring longingly at the ceiling in his room at TC thinking about her, to the moment he woke up with his arms tangled around her at the mountain resort. "That night is not the end of us. There's more to us than just that, Max. Don't get me wrong, that part of us is good, really good, but we both know there's more going on between us than just that."

She scoffed and fought the irresistible urge to smirk at his insane proclamation. She couldn't tell if he was joking with her or serious. It was sometimes difficult to determine with Alec. His insane ideas usually sounded like jokes up to a point, and it was only once the conversation was over and she could analyze it that she could be sure. Her mind wandered back to the late night discussions with him telling her about his various missions for Manticore; his probing questions about her life after she ran away. She didn't normally disclose that information to anyone—not that anyone ever asked—but for some reason, she could tell Alec. There was something in his expression that said he was just curious; she knew he wasn't going to try to make her feel better or fix her. He didn't have the interest or the inclination to do so. In his mind, she was like him. She was a survivor and difficult and sad past wasn't something to worry about or be ashamed of. Those discussions were easy in that respect and it was those moments that she missed the most when he was missing.

Confusion washed into her mind as she sighed. She shook her head and did her best to keep her face passive but she did note that her instinct was also not to push him away. He sensed this and pulled her a little closer.

"Max, you can say you doubt me all you want, but I do love you," he said in a serious tone. "You can say I don't know what I'm talking about, but you're wrong. I love you. I also want to believe that you are carrying our child, but even if you weren't, I'd still feel this way. I'm pretty sure that's what love is."

Max wasn't sure how to respond. The sincerity in his eyes scared her because she knew he was not joking. He also was not going to be swayed by any logical argument she threw at him, and he was not going to go away no matter what she said.

"You of all people know life isn't all puppies and rainbows, Alec," she replied, finding her voice. "A lot has happened. Right after we… We had a fling, a stress-induced, unplanned fling, and we didn't get a chance to put it into any perspective because all hell broke loose just after it happened. I think you've made it into more than it needs to be because of all of that."

Without bothering to seek permission or give her any warning, he pulled her very close and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply and passionately, pouring into the lip embrace everything he felt at Crystal Mountain, everything he had yearned for once they were back, and everything he held onto while he was in Renfro's clutches and at the medical compound being put back together by the mad scientist who knew more about how an X5 ticked than any X5 knew about themselves. He held her firmly against his body, feeling the child in her womb squirm slightly as its mother's pulse and breathing changed as she surrendered to the kiss and wrapped her arms around him, trembling with fear and surprise.

When they parted, Max rested her head briefly on his chest and felt her chest cinch in a knot of confusion. She longed for physical contact—some of that was simply an emotional reaction to feeling so awkward in her own body; some of it was chemical due to the hormone shifts—and ached as he released her. Still, she didn't want him to read more into the kiss than he should. She didn't know what it meant and she didn't want Alec thinking it proved his assertions correct. Her thoughts strayed to Logan and she wondered how she would have reacted if he had taken such a forward action with her.

"You know, this doesn't have to stop here," Alec offered with a sly grin on his lips and in his eyes.

Max blinked then glared at him. Their moment, whatever it was, had been tender and affectionate. His suggestion to escalate it to something more tawdry (while not exactly surprising) turned her mood quickly sour.

"What?" Max gaped.

"Ah, that's not a no," Alec grinned. "So, if you've got some free time now or…"

"You're unbelievable," she seethed. "You're asking me to… Do you see the shape my body is in? You think that is on my mind right now? How can you ask me to go have a nooner?"

"I told you, I'm here for you for… whatever," he said continuing to grin. "I'm just letting you know that, whatever you need, a punching bag, a errand boy, someone to… assuage any urges you have whatsoever, I am offering myself and my services to you."

"The urge to bust a few of your ribs is pretty strong right now," she said.

"Ah, more mood swings," he chided. "I've heard they can be brutal during pregnancy. Know what always puts me in a better mood: sex."

He quickly doubled over as she thrust her fist into his ribs. It was not hard a punches go, but she did hit the sweet spot that raised tears in his eyes as it snatched away his breath. He coughed and laughed his way through the sudden stab of pain then smiled as it subsided.

"Glad I could help," he said hoarsely as he rubbed the sore spot. "We'll call it a rain check on the offer then, huh?"

Max huffed indignantly as she stomped away into her bedroom closing the door firmly. A reflexive smile flashed quickly across her face. Whether it was due to the joy she felt shutting him up for a moment or the thought of taking him up on one or more of his offers, she didn't know. She was just glad Alec did not see it.

"So, you're saying maybe we should talk about this a little more," Alec offered.

"No," she said yell through the door. "Not here. Not now."

"Fine, where and when?"

"I don't know and later," she shouted.

"I won't be here later," Alec replied, glancing again at his timepiece. "Max, I have to go… somewhere. For just a little while."

She opened the door quickly, reminded again of the strange watch he wore.

"How long?" she asked and heard the worry and whine in her voice. She cleared her throat. "I mean, what are you going to do? I can't pull your sorry ass out of any trouble right now, Alec."

Alec merely smiled at her then leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"I'll see you when I get back," he said simply then headed out the door.

"Alec," she called, "where are you going?"

"I'll call you," he said and winked as he left.

**# # # #**

Logan tapped his hand rapidly on his thigh as he waited at the door. A week of calling, leaving messages and finally begging had paid off. Max had finally returned his call. Several moments of abject groveling followed by a promise to keep the discussion casual and peaceful earned him what he desired: A chance to apologize to her in person.

He held his breath, going over his plan in his head again, before knocking. He felt odd yet encouraged standing in front of this door. This is where Max lived when they first met, before things between them went off the rails. It felt like a sign, a signal, that they could perhaps start over. Sure, things were different now. So much had happened and a lot more was about to happen, but he was ready to face all that now. He just needed to show her that he could, once again, put his best foot forward and be a better man than he behaved when he returned from the east coast.

With a deep exhale and a quick internal pep talk, he knocked on the door. He swallowed hard as it was promptly opened by Max, who sported a flat expression which made him wonder if she had been staring at him through the spy hole the entire time he stood outside psyching himself up to announcing his arrival.

"Hi!" he said then grimaced as even he heard the overzealousness in his voice. "I mean, hi."

Max smirked then stepped aside, ushering him into the apartment. OC was gone, strategically down the hall with a neighbor. Max had not asked her to leave or to stay close, but her friend sensed away but near was still a good place to be. OC didn't have any fears about this visit; she just wanted Max to know that she was available if needed.

"So," Logan said with a shrug.

"So," she repeated, folding her arms trying not to feel awkward or petulant.

"This is awkward, huh?" Logan remarked, looking down at his shoes.

"Less so than the last time I saw you," she remarked.

"Right, about that," Logan shook his head and offered her his most sincere expression. "I was wrong. I was… an ass. I was out of line. I… I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, Max."

She nodded. He had said as much in countless messages over the last week. She believed he meant the words. She was no longer fuming angry at him and she was willing accept that she did deserve a certain amount of ire from him, but she wasn't sure what else she did or should feel.

"It's in the past," she said simply. "So… what else did you want to say?"

Logan nodded. She was still prickly. He expected that. He had, in a moment of delirious optimism, put the ring box back in his pocket before leaving his house. He now stuffed his hands to push it down further as he knew he would not be needing it—at least, not today.

"I guess, that was it," he shrugged. "I did want to see you. See how you're doing."

She shrugged in return and walked past him to the living room. She flipped her hand toward a chair opposite the one she took, directing him to sit there. Again, he held back any sigh of disappointment that she placed distance between them, but he was willing to spend his time in the dog house.

"So, how are you?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Large'ish," she nodded as she rubbed her side. "Fat, mostly."

"I know," he nodded and smiled genuinely. "Wow. I mean, you're… That is… You look…good. Healthy. Not as tired as you did last week, and you don't look fat."

"It's fine," Max answered with a smirk. "She and I aren't concerned about image right now."

"She?" Logan asked, a whirling and swooping sensation filling his stomach. "The baby? It's a girl?"

"I think so," Max nodded. "I didn't have Sam confirm that. I just… I feel like it's a girl. We, uh, we spend a lot of time together so I'm pretty sure on this."

"A girl would be nice," Logan said.

Max shrugged and gazed back at him still uncertain about the discussion. What was still under her skin was Logan's claimed worry about she and Alec and accusation she had been carrying on with him more than just the one time at the resort. She did not begrudge him his anger of the fact she had cheated on him. She knew he had a right to claim betrayal, but if he had concerns and worries long before anything happened between she and Alec, he kept that a secret. To Max, that felt like a bit of betrayal, too. Yes, she had lied to him once and stated she was in a relationship with Alec, but she had done that for Logan's sake and it was a lie. There was nothing between she and Alec then, except an odd quasi-friendship. What was between the two of them now was a mystery, but Logan was wrong if he thought she had been unfaithful prior to their trip to the mountains. That lack of trust hurt.

They looked at each other and then the floor and the windows and back again several times before Logan spoke again.

"This is awkward," Logan admitted with a shrug.

"Try not being able to see your feet when you stand up," she offered. "That's awkward."

He smiled back and shrugged. There was contrition on his face and guilt tugged at his slouching shoulders as he dug his hands into his pockets.

"I think you know what I mean," he said. "Max, I said some things I shouldn't have. I was surprised and upset, and those are just excuses. I know. I just want you to know that… Max, I do love you. I'm sorry I didn't handle this better."

Max nodded. She expected this from him. He wasn't a cruel or cold many by nature. He was a calculating one. One who cared a lot about big issues and large questions. He spent his time ferreting out truth. It didn't surprise her that he felt he was a victim of a conspiracy when she revealed the whole story to him.

"I know," she replied. "This isn't a good situation no matter how you look at it. I didn't handle it well either."

"What happens now?" he asked sullenly.

"I'm hoping that dinner happens soon," she shrugged. "I don't know if we're going to end up fighting or just talking, but I do know that if I don't eat soon, I'll probably start chewing on the arm of your couch."

Logan offered to hit the kitchen. He could hear something boiling on the stove. A quick check revealed a pot of water and a box of pasta beside it. Receiving Max's permission he put his culinary skills to work opening the jar of canned sauce and boiling the spaghetti. It was a far cry from the gourmet meals he once tried to make for her, but (again) it was time to reboot the system and start small. If a simple meal of boxed pasta and generic tomato sauce helped do the trick, he would serve it to her for their anniversary every year. He smiled at that: their anniversary. He felt his optimism wasn't misplaced. Sure, she was still mad at him and there was a lot of uncertainty in their future, but they had a chance at a future still.

He was grinning about that when he went to the refrigerator in search of some sort of beverage to accompany their meal when he sat the small slip of paper held to the door with a phone number. Beneath the number was a single name: Alec.

Logan knew he should have expected this. He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but he also knew the clench in his jaw at reading the guy's name (in Max's handwriting no less) was something he needed to control, and do it quickly. However, his mouth was quicker than his mind in this instance.

"Have you seen Alec much?" he asked.

He heard Max sigh. He was encouraged that it was a sigh rather than a scoff, but still, the sigh wasn't great either. Rethinking the moment, he quickly back peddled.

"I'm just asking if he's still… around," Logan said, turning what he hoped was an impassive face toward her. "I mean, have you… Are you…?"

"Just ask," Max said quickly. "It'll be a lot easier to answer if I know what you want to know."

"Sorry," Logan replied, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm not trying to start anything here. I'm just trying to figure out where I stand and… where I can't stand anymore."

"Honestly," she said, looking at him with a sad and sincere face, "I don't know, and that's basically what I told Alec when he asked me the same thing a few days ago. I don't know what I want or what I need or what I should do. I think it would be wise if both of you stopped expecting me to have that answer right now because if I had to give one at the moment neither of you would like it."

**# # # #**

It felt like fire creeping under his skin, crawling in the space between his skin and his muscles and turning his blood to lava. He could feel the sweat pouring off his head, soaking his hair like it did the rest of his body, as he lay prone on the cold steal table. His heart raced—he could feel that even without hearing the frantic beeping of the cardiac monitor in the room. His breaths came in uncontrollable gasps as the rest of the IV fluids coursed into his system.

"Is it almost done?" Alec asked, his jaw clenched in agony.

The nurse—he thought of her as a nurse at least but she might have been a torture master or autopsy specialist for all he knew—turned her dark, warm eyes toward him. Her expression was clinical except for her eyes. Those betrayed her. She did not like seeing pain. Her clipped tone could be read as either a defense against those feelings or simply her personality (which was in conflict with her careworn eyes).

"Two hours to go," she said crisply.

"Thought I'd been at this longer already," Alec gasped.

"Nope," she shook her head.

"Can't even lie to me to give me some hope?" he panted. "A little mental placebo might be helpful—give me a hint of an optimism high to get through us."

"No, sorry," she said.

"Just so you know, I'm naming you Buzz Kill Betty," he said through clenched teeth.

"Actually," she said unconcerned as she looked at the monitors and nodded her approval, "my name is Amanda."

"Whatever, Betty," he scowled.

As his chest heaved, he closed his eyes and tried to go to a more soothing place. Some place cooler and softer, but he couldn't think of any. The images of deserts and sleeping in caves tucked into harsh mountainsides filled his mind. He mentally shook out the thoughts and tried to do what he did during Renfro's torture: Think of Max. Remember her in his arms and the feel of her body against his, the curve of her face and the scent of her hair. But he stopped himself from doing that. He feared he might betray her, call out some detail that would put her back on the radar. He was keeping her a secret still.

He might trust the mad scientist behind his treatments with his own welfare (what choice did Alec have?), but he wasn't prepared to give up Max to him—or his muscle. Sure, he trust Don Lydecker when it came to military matters. The man knew how to plan and support his troops. He knew how to train and to teach, but that didn't mean Alec trusted him with information about Max.

Alec had no idea what Lydecker or his employer would do with her if they found her. They were certainly interested in her. They claimed it was for her own good and her welfare was their primary concern. Alec turned is best Manticore trained deceptive face on them and agreed. He promised he would find her and have her accompany him to the compound so they could protect her.

He never intended to make good on that promise. He would keep returning to them only as long as it took to get himself well and make his still dormant genes wake the hell up. His plan, even from the start, had been to go back to Seattle and find Max then take her away to some place safe, some place they could start over and hide from their past. Her pregnancy complicated things somewhat, but it only convinced Alec that he needed to protect her more than ever.

He remembered being treated as a lab rat during his childhood. The poking and the prodding and the tests. He suffered through them all and wasn't sure how he withstood it. The thought of putting a child through that, any child, turned his stomach now. What they might do to Max's child scared him. Whether the child was his or Logan's, the possibilities of what these men might do made Alec feel something he had not experienced since Ames White had an explosive placed at his brainstem: fear. Only this time, the fear was not for himself—not directly. He feared the treatments might not be successful and leave him unable to do what he vowed he would do the moment he had found Max again when he first returned to Seattle: Protect her and her baby.

"You are doing well, son," the doctor said, appearing in Alec's strained vision.

He shook at the man's sudden arrival. He leaned heavily on his cane and peered down at Alec with a mild and confident expression.

"The pain will pass," he said. "Relax. You need to trust me."

"I do," Alec lied smoothly.

_Like hell, I do_, he thought.

**# # # #**

* * *

**A/N: **More to come. Thanks for still following along and thanks for the reviews!


	15. Chapter 15

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 15)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: The end is near… but we're not there just yet… Enjoy.

* * *

**# # # #**

Logan laid on the exam table, staring at the harsh light above. He woke up feeling deflated. His legs felt heavy and sluggish. He instantly called Sam Carr. His fear was that the near-miraculous regeneration of his spinal column, the one brought on by a transfusion from a transgenic more than a year earlier, was degenerating. He normally moved about with his exoskeleton, but it wasn't always necessary. For example, he had left it in his car when he went to see Max at OC's apartment the previous day.

Climbing the seven flights to the apartment wasn't difficult. Of course, he reminded himself that he was running purely on nerves at that point. When he left a few hours later, he wasn't thinking. He simply departed, feeling he had at least done no further damage to his relationship with Max, but something chewed at the back of his mind. He hadn't made any progress either. His thoughts were on analyzing, and perhaps over analyzing, the words and topics of their discussion so that when he finally realized he was sitting in his car, he did not recall actually making the trek there.

"Everything looks fine," Carr said, interrupting Logan's pondering.

He sat up and looked at his friend and physician. The room was small and cold—a far cry from the better equipped office he previously had. Logan knew the feeling. His own placement had sunk more than a bit in the last few years. Such was the rise and fall of life in a society still flirting with disaster, he supposed.

"Your reflexes are where they were the last time I checked you," Carr reported. "There's no additional bruising or swelling. You claim you haven't fallen or sustained any injuries or been ill. I think maybe you're just tired, Logan."

"It's been a long year," he nodded.

"Done a lot of travel recently," Carr reminded him and fixed him with a penetrating stare. "A lot going on in your world, too."

"So is that the nice way of telling me it's all in my head?" he wondered. Carr looked back at him flatly. "I'm serious? Is that what you're telling me? I'm okay if it is. I mean, it would actually make me feel better. I'd rather think I'm losing my mind just a little if it means I'm being pointlessly paranoid."

Carr nodded and smiled blandly.

"Paranoid about what?" he inquired. "You've been leading a double life for as long as I've known you and it's nearly gotten you killed a few times. Logan, generally speaking, when you think someone is after you, you're right."

Logan chuckled dryly. That certainly was true in the past. When Eyes Only was the only voice willing to contradict the official story in town, he was a target. His network of informants was helpful but also precarious to contact and protect. People died if he made a wrong move. He persisted because even more could get hurt if he made no move at all.

"I've sort of let the town crier career slide recently," he shrugged. "I've got some competition, I'm glad to say. Have you heard about the little pirate radio stations that are springing up in a few of the sectors? They're doing their own broadcasts, sometimes confirming and sometimes denying what's on the news at night. One or two of them are pretty good. If enough of them pop up, they could put Eyes Only totally out of business."

"How would that make you feel?" Carr wondered.

His job was to care for the physical body, but he had known Logan Cale too long and looking after all of him was just part of the friendship.

"Uh, great," Logan nodded. "I mean, if I have inspired a new generation of truth seekers to fight the good fight, then I would gladly pass the baton, as it were. That would give me more time to pursue… other aspects of my life."

Carr nodded his understanding. Max was close-lipped about pretty much everything. Her appointments with Carr were strictly focused on her health and that of her child. However, Carr knew there was much more going on in the woman's world. Her reluctance to discuss anything other than heart rates, glucose levels and her Tryptophan percentages was troubling. Logan's lack of accompaniment to her appointments was understandable while he was out of the city, but now that he was back and still not attending with her put Carr in an awkward position between his two patients.

"You, of course, know about Max," Logan said.

"Can't discuss that with you, Logan," Carr said quickly.

"Fine," Logan shook his head. "Can you answer me one medical question: Would there be anything different in a pregnancy that was a human and transgenic hybrid? I'm just… curious. I know she says she doesn't want to know but…"

Carr kept his face impassive. This was the information lacking in his treatment of the woman. He suspected it—had to considering her questions early on that were along the same lines—but did not actually know until Logan essentially confirmed it. The possibility that Logan was not the father was surely creating a strain on both the mother and possible father. The other possible father was unknown to Carr, but that also wouldn't take a lot of guessing. Alec's recent return was a spoiler alert on that front.

"Even if that was a hypothetical question with no possible invasion into anyone's private medical file, there's nothing I could tell you," Carr said. "As far as the medicine is concerned here: She's a woman having a baby. Nothing more to glean until tests could be run on the child, and I highly doubt Max will do that unless it is medically necessary."

Logan nodded. He suspected as much, but he figured it was worth asking. After all, he was a journalist. That's what journalists did. Max, he hoped, could understand that. He tried explaining it to her the other night. The way her superior physical abilities were in her blood, the need to find answers and know the truth was in his. He wasn't simply being territorial or judgmental. He simply needed to know because that's who he was.

"I think you're experiencing stress for a lot of reasons," Carr said, returning to the patient in front of him. "Your muscle tone and reaction times are fine. I don't think you need to worry about anything going wrong with your mobility if what I am seeing here today is any indication of your overall health."

"So paranoid it is," Logan smiled. "See, I wondered. I mean, yeah, it's not a great situation waiting for the whole… this thing with Max and me… to sort itself out. Maybe you're right. It's been a long few weeks. You know, last night, I even thought I was being followed. I mean, look over your should and just see your shadow and rats kind of paranoia. And before you ask, no, no one was there. Except the rats."

**# # # #**

Ames White shucked another pistachio nut, dropping the shells into the bag in his lap. Cale had ducked into the abandoned office building an hour earlier. The visit was of little interest to White. A few simple questions to the vagrants on the street told him all he needed to know about the place. This was where Cale's old friend and doctor set up shop these days. The homeless hag who called the parking garage in front of the clinic home said she never saw anyone but neighborhood people going inside. She knew them all by sight and they had lived in the area for years.

White didn't bother to give her any money when she held out her hand. She said she might starve to death. He saw no reason to delay the inevitable.

So he sat in his car, waiting for Cale to leave. He was tailing him, at a distance, to see if he met up with 452. He still hadn't put eyes on her, but it was only a matter of time. She hadn't taken up her old job at the bike messenger service—he had that place bugged. Her friends there never mentioned her. That might be strategic to protect her or themselves. That or they were as dumb as they looked. He was leaning toward the latter.

She was in the city. He was certain of it. Why else would Cale being hanging around and trying to put himself back into a routine? Whether he was in contact with her or not remained to be seen. He slipped by White the previous evening for a while. White lost him in traffic as Cale got through a sector check point ahead of him just before the slack-jawed cop closed the port to the next sector for a shift change. That took 20 minutes and left White with no way to knowing which direction Cale took. Instead, he placed himself in an alley and waited for the cyber journalist to return. He followed him back to his house, relishing the obvious caginess the man affected, looking over his shoulder. The ironic description of cat and mouse drew a devastatingly cold smile to White's lips.

"Come on, Logan," he said under his breath and he looked at his watch. "Finish turning your head and coughing so you can go look for your alley cat."

Cale would lead him to 452 eventually. He was certain.

**# # # #**

Alec woke to a splitting headache, stiff neck and, oddly, dog breath.

"Josh, man that better be you," he grumbled as he ran his hand over his face to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

"Joshua waiting for Alec to wake up," the transhuman said. "Alec done dreaming?"

Alec sat up and wished he hadn't. Every muscle protested and his head swam like he'd been hung upside down for a few hours then put right side up very quickly. The room tilted and wobbled dangerously, making him grip the edges of his bed.

"Alec okay?" Joshua asked, placing a strong and firm hand on his shoulder steadying him.

"Just trying to keep from falling off the planet," Alec replied, blinking and taking a deep breath. "Where's the mad scientist?"

"Father was here already," Joshua nodded. "Said Alec would wake soon."

"Hey say if Alec is all better yet?" he wondered.

Joshua did not reply. He made a sad murmuring noise deep in his throat. The moist-eyed expression he offered Alec was his answer. Whether Joshua understood the complex chemistry mystery that was currently Alec's dormant genes, the dogman got the gist of it: There was a problem that was proving hard (if not impossible to solve). Alec looked back at him, the previous deep bruising that had covered Joshua's face the last time Alec saw him was now gone. His nose was slightly flatter, but his limbs all appeared to be free of splints and casts.

"How you doing?" Alec asked. "Back in fighting form?"

"Joshua not a fighter," he shook his head.

"With that soft-heart of yours and all your artsy ways, you're better off playing the lover, right?" Alec grinned, petting his friend soundly on the shoulder. "You're healed, right?"

"A-okay, 100 percent," Joshua nodded. "Father fixed."

Alec grunted. He was happy Joshua was no longer a mangled and broken mess. The bastard, Ames White, had apparently been a guest of the complex unbeknown to Alec (who gladly, dormant genes or not would have put a bullet or nine in the guy's skull on principle alone). The guy obviously had daddy issues, which he had taken out on a few of Lydecker's hand-picked guards and finally on Joshua. He beat the transhumant to a bloody and broken pulp before fleeing to points unknown. The last time Alec saw Joshua, he was casted and in traction to heal and set all the broken bits. He was glad to see and hear the experience had not dampened his friend's warm demeanor.

"Any chance you can get Dad to come in and let me know if I'm still grounded?" Alec asked. "Is Deck here still?"

Joshua nodded. He had just spoken with him before coming to sit with Alec and wait for him to awaken.

"Colonel Don wants to speak with Alec," Joshua nodded. "Wants to know how is Max."

Alec chewed his lip. He didn't like lying to Joshua. He trusted him—to a point. He did not believe the transhuman would ever purposefully betray Max or place her in danger. He, however, trusted his "father." Alec didn't. Alec felt it was best for everyone if he kept certain details to himself for the moment.

"I wish I knew," Alec sighed. "I looked for her where I thought she would be, but I guess I just missed her. She had been there. That much I know, and she was okay when she was there. I was just… late. You know Max. She moves fast."

"She blaze," Joshua nodded, looking concerned by taking Alec's information as hopeful. "How Alec feeling?"

"Like I have a hangover," he sighed as he rubbed his temples. "At least, what I think a hangover feels like. Where is Betty Buzz… I mean, Amanda? I need someone to give me an update here so I can head back."

"Why Alec rush?" Joshua asked. "Need rest. Get well. Find Max easier."

"Having a little bad trip being stuck in a lab again," he explained, his stomach churning as he took in the small space, white walls and antiseptic scent of the room. "Like being home at Manticore again."

"Manticore not home," Joshua shook his head.

"Yeah, I know," Alec replied. "That's kind of my point. Look, I just need to talk to someone who will tell me if I need some more happy pills if I go back to Seattle or if I'm all alive and kicking again. Can you help me there?"

Joshua nodded and loped out of the room. Alec took his time swinging his legs out of the bed, remembering from the fall he took last time that slower was better when he first awoke after a treatment. His equilibrium was usually off and he always felt much weaker after than he had before; the most distrusting part of his personality sometimes wondered if the treatment was leaching more out of him than it was putting into him, but the worst of the weak feelings usually passed within an hour or two of becoming conscious. He just needed whatever high octane juice they were pumping into his veins to take hold this time because he needed to be on the top of his game more now than ever.

"Alec?" Lydecker's voice called to him.

He turned to see the military man standing at the foot of his bed wearing his enigmatic expression that could mean anything from 'I'm here to kill you' to 'have you had lunch?' Alec kept his own expressions in check when dealing with Lydecker. At the moment, he might not be quite the soldier physically that he was at Manticore, but he certainly had all his mental skills in hand. Alec always excelled at SERE training (survive, evade, resist and escape). He did much better than his fellow transgenics because very early he understood something they didn't: The game wasn't all physical. The majority of it was all in your head. Once you conquered that, how you reacted, what you gave away, who and how you deceived, the physical stuff was cake.

"Don," he replied giving him the expected fake bravado. "You're looking fit. Have you been working out?"

"Cute," Lydecker shook his head. "Report."

"It's small on square footage, but good light and not a bad neighborhood," Alec nodded looking around the room. "Can't beat the price either."

Lydecker sighed. Alec was a hardcore case. He didn't trust and let you know he didn't by pretending he did and that he didn't care. It always made accurately debriefing him nearly impossible until he felt like telling you what he knew. Normally, he had at Manticore, at least usually, giving all the details he believed were relevant. Still, Lydecker felt Alec (then 494) a little to cagey. True blue soldier in many senses, he also ran a black market in the facility and bribed guards to pretty much do as he pleased. Lydecker, therefore, took everything Alec said with the proverbial grain of salt.

"Any luck finding Max?" he asked.

Alec looked back at him, knowing his own expression was unreadable in any way. He doled out the carefully picked details to provide information without providing real intel.

"Some," he said. "She was still in the city as recently as a week ago. She off the radar. Logan Cale is back, but she's not staying with him, which was my best lead, I thought."

Lydecker listened and nodded. Alec felt there was enough truth in his report to keep the man satisfied but not suspicious.

"Can I leave today or am I turning into a pumpkin at midnight?" he asked.

Lydecker laughed dryly. Then offered him a flat and dour face.

"It still didn't take," he reported. "Dr. Sandeman said your system is supersaturated with the necessary enzyme to neutralize the poison Renfro gave you, but something isn't working. All your tests show there is no degeneration of your DNA. Your code didn't mutate. It's just… shut down. I'm sorry, Alec. As of right now, we don't know how to restart it."

"So this is it?" he asked. "I'm Boy Weakling rather than Boy Wonder from now on?"

"We don't know," Lydecker said grimly. "It could be that with everything you went through, your body still isn't ready to throw the switch. Maybe the enzyme needs to be out of you system for a longer period. We just don't know."

"Any theories?" Alec asked, and even he heard the pleading in his voice. "Deck, come on. Throw me a bone here. Or, hell, catnip. Whatever. Drink more water, eat a turnip, shoot heroine. There has to be something, no matter how crazy."

"Get hit by lightning and survive," Lydecker said. Whether he was joking or that was the going (and crazy) theory, Alec didn't know. He hung his head and started working on plans in his head for once he left.

**# # # #**

The first thing Alec did upon returning to Seattle was drop in on Normal. He dreaded the visit, but figured he would have an easier time getting information out of him than OC, who was surely under permanent gag orders from Max to speak to him about her. Normal, however, would have been around OC and from his observations of the bike messenger's attitude and daily schedule, Alec hoped to gage Max's current mood. It was an imprecise science and meant he might have to endure Normal giving him looks that made his skin crawl, but it was all for a good cause.

So, following the necessary evil, Alec made a trip across the city just before the business day was complete. A little recon showed him that OC was leaving the apartment for a date—the high tease of her hair and low cut of her shirt told him she expected to be gone for a few hours. Gratefully, he climbed the stairs to the apartment and knocked smartly on the door.

Max opened and before she could either refuse him entry or invite him inside, Alec walked passed her, carrying a paperbag in one hand.

"Hi, honey, I'm home?" Alec began, walking into the apartment. "Did you miss me? You know, it's a nice night out there. Let's get out of here."

Max scoffed and shook her head.

"When did you get back?" she asked. Alec noted there was what he read as the slightest hint of a grin in her eyes.

"Earlier," he said with a shrug. "So? You up for something? Come on. Let's go."

"I'm not really into the club scene right now, Alec," Max said. "Nothing about this body says I want to hit the bar."

"I said out, Max," he grabbing onto her hand. "I didn't say we had to go to a club or a bar."

"Where then?" she asked staying rooted in place. "I'm not in shape to be heisting anything and if you ask me to stuff anything under my shirt…"

Alec looked back at her oddly and cocked his head to the side before shrugging.

"Huh," he nodded. "Never thought of that."

Max jabbed him squarely in the side as she threw a filthy look his way. Alec grinned and continued to hold her hand.

"What about a movie?" he offered. "You get to sit, put your feet up and stare at something that isn't other the walls of OC's apartment. Can you manage that in your fragile and bitchy condition?"

"Hey," she scowled.

"Right, my bad," he nodded with the corner of his mouth curling into a naughty grin. "You're not fragile."

Max raised her hand and cuffed the back of his head. Alec didn't bother to block it or duck from it. Instead, he felt the impact then smiled further. She wanted to pull her hand out of his grasp, or rather, thought she should, but the actual will to do so was not there. He always took her off guard and off her game when he revealed the gentle side of his nature. He continued to smile, with his lips and his eyes, in a contagious fashion. She found herself returning the expression.

"No, Alec," she said, digging deep with all her will to push him away. "I've told you that I need some time."

"I know," he nodded. "But I noticed that you didn't say 'time alone' so I took the chance." He smiled and shrugged, offering her a hopeful expression.

"And, even if I was wrong," he continued as he held up the paper bag clutched in his other hand. "I figured you wouldn't say no to this."

Max took it and peeked inside. The delightful, and much craved recently, aroma filled her nose and lungs as she inhaled deeply. Her mouth watered as she flicked her eyes up to him with a mixture of surprise, hunger and gratitude.

"Where did you get these?" she asked jamming a soft salt and cinnamon sugar covered pretzel in her mouth. "How did you know to get these?"

"I have mad crazy skills, Max," he replied in the insufferably arrogant practiced tone that he knew irked her but usually made her fight a grin all the same. "You gonna offer me one or…"

He reached his hand toward the bag and got it slapped, hard and promptly. He smirked and closed the door behind him as she retreated deeper into the room, clutching the bag closely to her chest. She did not order him to leave, so it was with some confidence that he sat at the opposite end of the couch from her.

"Seriously," she said through a full mouth. "Did OC tell you?"

"Nah," he shook his head. "You have her on a permanent gag order, and she's not breaking your trust. Normal told me."

"Normal?" she asked, licking the tangy salt and sweet sugar taste from her fingers. "How does he know?"

"OC must have asked him if he knew where to find those," Alec shrugged.

"And how did you come to talk to Normal?" Max asked.

Alec shrugged and didn't bother to explain his methods. He didn't fully understand them. He just knew they worked. However, after a moment, he wished he had. It would have taken the conversation in a better direction. He wasn't listening at first until he caught the end of a rant, one that he didn't know precisely how it started.

"… and you said the other day that you'd do anything for me," Max spat.

"Uh, yes, I did," Alec agreed. "I will. Tell me what you want me to do, and I will do it."

"Leave me alone," she said and walked away.

"Max," he tried to cajole her. "Come on. Where is this coming from? Look, I'm tired. I had a long trip back and… Okay, I'm here for you, for whatever you need. I just need to know what that is."

"You gone," she snapped. "Get this, okay: You're a lover and a fighter, but you're not a keeper, Alec. So strolling in here, trying to charm me isn't going to work. So just go. Okay, I've been thinking since you left without word of where you were going and why. I realized that this is what you do. What you will always do, so it's not going to work. You're… you're not meant to be… part of a family. It's not who you are. I know you say it's who you want to be, but you'll…"

He looked at her and blinked hard. He suspected he was being made to pay for disappearing for a bit and not giving her details about it or why he left. Again, he had reasons and felt they were good and best left unspoken for the moment. However, the finality in her proclamation stung him more deeply than he was prepared to feel.

"Why? Because I'll screw it up?" he asked. "Maybe I will, but you've got to at least give me a chance. Max, I'm not saying I'll be perfect, but what if it takes a year, or 10 years, for me to screw up? There's a lot of time before that that could be… good. Great, even."

"Alec, no," Max shook her head. "I have to do what's right for my child. I can't be worried about anyone else's happiness."

"Not even your own?" he asked. "Max, if you're miserable, how do you think that's going to affect this kid?"

"Logan doesn't make me miserable," she countered.

"He doesn't?" Alec scoffed. "The entire time I've known both of you all you've done is mope and mourn and live in frustration and angst about each other."

"Whose fault is that?" she snapped then hung her head and sighed.

Alec looked up at her with an expression saturated with hurt and sadness. Max hung her head for a moment then turned a more kindly gaze on him. He felt like she had punched him square in the chest. No bones were broken, but his heart was definitely bruised and smarting. Max gaped as she saw the damage her hasty words had done.

"I'm sorry, Alec," she apologized. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did," he remarked, offering her a morose and crestfallen expression. His eyes were dull with sorrow. "You really can't forgive me, can you? I remember what you said, just after I got to Seattle after Manticore folded. It was that night when that Manticore scientist removed Whites little explosive from my head. You said you blamed me for you and Logan being kept apart, for not getting your cure. You know, I thought, after everything that maybe by now you could have let me off the hook for…"

"Alec," she shook her head and looked at him with tears brimming in her eyes. "Stop. Please. It's not like that."

"I went to Russia to get you a cure," he said hotly. "The damn ship went down, and I kept going because… you wanted that cure more than anything! Being rid of that virus so that you could be with him was everything to you. So I went. I found Brezhenski and brought her back here for you."

His voice grew louder as his anger and frustration ripped through his veneer of nonchalance. He was so consumed with his own pain and agitation that he never heard the door open. OC stood very still in the doorway, staring at the scene sporting an uncertain expression. She wasn't sure whether to let him get this off his chest or stop it. She decided it was best to remain quiet (and in the future remember to check her purse to be certain her phone was in it when she left to avoid these little X5 dramas).

"I don't know if words exist that can explain how much I didn't want to find her and how much I wanted her to refuse to come back with me," Alec continued. "But found her, and she thought she could help, and that made me pretty miserable, but I kept going! I brought her back here. Then once she got started, I wanted her to say it turned out she couldn't figure this thing out, but I realized that would have been worse. Do you know why, Max?"

"Alec, stop," she said as tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"Because, if she couldn't cure Logan, then you'd have been heartbroken," he shouted. "For as rotten as it makes me feel knowing you would rather be with Logan, it hurt more seeing how much it hurt you not being with him."

"Alec, I'm sorry," Max shook her head.

He scoffed and waved off her apology as he headed toward the door, eyeing OC darkly.

"Don't go," Max called. "Alec, please, let me explain."

He did not respond. He nodded tersely at OC then left, slamming the door with as much force as he could muster. OC remained in place saying nothing for a few moments until Max looked at her and shook her head and dropped weeping onto the couch. She went quietly to sit beside Max, putting her arm around her and making soothing noises.

"Such an ass," Max began and sniffled as she dragged her hand roughly across her face. "I don't know why he was so mad."

"Yeah, you do," OC replied. "If you don't, then I don't know that me telling you why is going to help."

"What do you mean?" Max asked.

"Girl, I don't know if I envy you or if I pity you," she replied solemnly. "Now, I don't swing with the testosterone team, but if I did, I think I'd like to have your problem."

"Trust me," Max groaned as she rubbed her hands over her belly. "This is not an enviable situation."

"Sure it is," OC said. "You got two of them wanting to be your everything, but it ain't gonna last and it shouldn't. It's not supposed to be like this, Boo. It ain't fair to either Alec or Logan. Look, I know you've got a lot going on inside you, but you can't leave both of 'em out there waiting and wanting. You need to choose."

"Well, if I had to choose right now, Alec's made it easy," she scoffed.

OC shook her head and sighed. She held on to Max tighter and chided her.

"Don't be like that," OC said. "Don't make a stupid forever choice simply because you're a little pissy right now. You're not turning your back on Alec just because he got a little testy just now. Any fool can see that boy loves you more than his poor, super soldier heart can handle."

"Really? Funny way of showing it," Max scoffed. "Yelling at me… when I'm like this? I cry at radio commercials right now!"

"He don't know that because you keep pushing him away—Logan too," OC pointed out. "You do it every time one of them tries to be there for you. Now, I'm not saying Alec shouldn't check his tone some, but you of all people know it's easier to be angry than admit you're hurt."

She eyed her friend directly. Max blinked and tried to look away, but eventually bit her lip guiltily then nodded.

"Still, it doesn't mean that Alec actually loves me," Max huffed. "He just doesn't like being alone or feeling like he lost anything. It's a male jealousy thing."

"It maybe that too, but you're wrong about him not having real feelings for you," OC said. "Now, I keep my mouth shut out your little internal conflict: Logan or Alec; Alec or Logan. I can see it's a hard choice, and only you can make, but you gotta be honest with yourself about why you choose whichever one you do, a'igth? Did you not hear what that boy just said to you?"

Max nodded and rolled her eyes. She suspected people across town in Sector Two heard him.

"Yeah, he's pissed because I wanted to be with Logan even before we met," Max shrugged.

"Okay, we'll talk about you using the past tense on 'want' at another time," OC replied. "What pretty eyes just said was that he'd rather be flat-out, stone-cold miserable if it made you happy than to see you be sad. Now, I know what me and my ladies would call that. What you straight girls think that is? Alec loves you, Max. Now, I don't get a vote in your little baby-daddy election, but if I did, I would think twice before I disregarded someone who put his happiness on hold for yours—particularly when I could see how hard it was for him to do that."

"Logan loves me, too," Max sniffled. "He wants me to be happy, too."

"I know," OC nodded. "I don't deny Logan's a good man. He might even be the right man for you, but he's not better than Alec when you get down to what matters."

"How can you compare them?" Max scoffed.

OC sighed and pet Max's hair for a moment. Smoothing it out as she considered her answer. It was easy and complicated at the same time, kind of like understanding Max herself.

"Because I see them and who they are," OC replied. "Max, I think you make Alec work harder just because he is who he is and what he is. You put him in second place because he comes from the same place you did. You look at him and you think of all those rotten things that Manticore was. Well, the folks who ran that place were the monsters, no arguments, but they didn't make monsters."

"Since when are you Alec's biggest fan?" Max wondered.

"I ain't, but I see him for who he is," OC said. "Alec's a good man, Max. You have to know that; yes, he's not perfect, but neither is Logan. They equal, just different. Now, near as I can figure, one of them wants you to be happy with him forever. The other, the one who just left looking like he's about to lose everything, wants you to be happy regardless."

"So you think I should choose Alec?" Max asked.

"I'm saying I don't envy you having to choose," OC said, gripping her hand in a show of support. "I'd suggest you say no to both and pick yourself up a sister fixation, but that ain't gonna happen. Now, you always saying you gotta do what's right by your little one. I'm down with that, but does that mean you have to give up on what you want, too?"

"Logan is more settled," Max replied. "He's more… sophisticated."

"Alec can learn anything in 24 hours," she said. "Music, business, a language."

"Both of them are smart in their own way," Max argued.

"So, like I said, equal," OC pointed out.

"But it's more than that," Max said. "I don't want my child growing up like I did: an outsider on the run with nothing but what I could steal. That's the only life she would know with Alec."

"Neither Alec or Logan is starting a boot camp or throwing you out in the street," OC countered. "I get that your days were hard, but neither of those men can change who you are or your past any more than they can change their own. Thinking otherwise isn't going to help you make your choice."

"I don't really have a choice," Max sniffled.

"You mean because whoever the father is wins?" OC wondered.

"No, that would be easy," Max shook her head. "I wouldn't have to choose at all, but I know that Logan very much wants the baby to be his."

"An Alec don't?" OC asked.

"Alec doesn't care," Max explained.

"He sure acts like he cares," OC replied.

"No, I mean, he said he doesn't care who the father is," Max continued. "He said it would be nice if he was the father, but that if he isn't it doesn't change anything for him."

"He said that?" OC asked with wide and impressed eyes.

Max nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Life with Logan would be easier for my baby," Max confessed. "She deserves the best, and… I think he will be better able to give it to her. Alec will always be Alec."

"Is that so bad?" OC asked.

"It could be," Max answered honestly. "You know what he's like."

"I know he's still got some maturing to do," OC nodded. "He's come a long way since he first arrived in Seattle."

"Well, how about that he's a freak like me?" Max offered. "Tagging my daughter with a double whammy of two transgenic parents in a world that thinks even one is too many is not fair to her. At least with Logan, she has half a chance."

OC shook her head and regarded her friend with sorrow and honesty. It was obvious Max was not relishing making this choice and had spent a long time considering it. Her head was making decisions, strategic decisions but her heart was being left out of the negotiations.

"If it turns out that Alec's her daddy, how you gonna keep him away?" OC asked solemnly. "You think he's just gonna go away because you picked his rival?"

"He will if he means what he says when he claims he wants me to be happy," Max said, as fat tears of regret rolled down her face.

OC gaped at the proclamation and the expression she saw on Max's face. The devastation in her eyes was immense.

"So you can't trust him to stand by you and take care of you and his little girl, but you trust him to leave you alone if it makes you happy?" OC shook her head. "He is going to want to be a part of his little girl's life if she's his. He's in love with you; he wants to be with you. Throw in you might be raising his baby, and I'm not seeing him disappearing to make things easier for you and Logan. Alec's not as simple as that and you know it."

"That's why this baby has to be Logan's," Max said solemnly. "If she is Logan's, then it will be easier for Alec to face."

OC sighed, hearing the sorrow in her friend's voice as she began trembling with a new round of tears.

"You want to make it easier on Alec?" OC wondered and shook her head. "What about you and your happiness? Tell me this, if there were no consequences to your choice, who would you choose?"

Max shook her head.

"There are consequences," she said. "I can't think like that."

"I know you care for both of them, but who's truly living in your heart, Boo?" OC asked. She looked at Max's red, tear-stained face and saw the answer. She reached over and hugged her tightly again and stroked her hair. "Aw, it's okay, sugar. I know. I know."

"It's not fair," Max sobbed. "I don't want to hurt him, but…"

"Okay, let it out," OC said soothingly. "I know it how that feels. Love is an awful pain. Don't you worry. You're not alone. Original Cindy is here for you. I'm just glad you finally figuring out your own truths. I don't know what you gonna do or decide, but as long as you know truth in your heart, at least you can make a choice knowing all the important stuff first."

**# # # #**

Once Max settled down and her crying jag ended, OC set out on foot in hopes of salvaging her date for the evening, but when she arrived at the bar an hour late, she knew she was out of luck. Her lady for the evening was nowhere to be found. She leaned on the bar and prepared to sooth her feelings over her ruined evening when she spied a familiar face at the other end staring darkly into his glass. Feeling obligation to check on him, OC walked to the far end and took as seat beside Alec.

"You ain't able to drown your sorrows, brother man," OC said, dropping onto the stool beside him.

However, as she gazed at him, she noted his eyes were glassy and there was an unusual red tinge barely visible on his cheeks.

"Make a bet," he said slowly as he raised his glass. "One advantage of being broken, I mean, ordinary. I can finally reap the benefits of self-medicating."

OC shook her head and sat beside him, waving off the bartender who approached to refill Alec's glass.

"You're done," she said, sliding the empty glass from his hand as she nudged him up from his seat and slid under his arm for support. "Where you crashing?"

He didn't respond. He listed into her slightly as she began to walk him out of the bar.

"Sugarman, I will bring you to Normal's pad for him to nurse you through the hangover you gonna have if you don't tell me," she vowed.

Grudgingly, Alec gave her the address just three blocks away—an abandoned room across from Sketchy's place. OC walked him there shaking her head and chiding him for putting himself in a dangerous position. Her stomach knotted, recalling the last time the two of them were in this predicament. She was the one who needed assistance getting home that night; she ended up in the hospital, and he ended up missing. She looked cautiously into the alleys and the shadows until they arrived unharmed and unnoticed at the dingy, damp room. It had a single cot with a few, tattered blankets, a small pile of clothing, a black bag and nothing more. No TV. No kitchen. Not even a lamp.

"You becoming a monk?" OC asked.

"Feel like one lately," he said as she sat him down clumsily on the cot.

"Whose fault is that?" OC asked. "You looking to cat around—sorry, no pun intended there."

"None taken," he sighed tipping his head back to rest on the wall. "And no. I'm not prowling. That's not… me anymore. I guess. Maybe it should be."

"No," OC shook her head. "Do not start this. Alec, why can't you be a happy drunk? You're a 'roll with it' kind of man generally. What's changed? I mean, I see you're not… yourself exactly, but…"

"I don't know who or what I am anymore, I guess," he remarked. "Makes me wonder. Maybe she didn't really see anything at all. Maybe I was just… I asked her and she just… "

He scoffed and waved off the discussion with his hands. OC shook her head and then stared at him with a mixture of frustration and pity.

"Don't do this," OC said. "It's enough of a mess when you're sober. Ain't gonna get any better when you're drunk—trust me. I've been there. Just… everybody involved in this is confused, Alec.

"Confused?" he asked. "I just wanted to see her, to talk to her. How is that being confused. I was just seeing how she was feeling."

"She's feeling cranky, fat, horny and now also confused," OC said.

"Say that again," he shook his head blinking with heavy lids.

"I know you only heard one word," she shook her head and back handed him firmly in the chest. "Now, leave my girl alone for a few days."

"So, now she's your girl?" Alec scoffed. "How many people do I need to compete with?"

"You know what I mean," OC chuckled and rubbed his shoulder consolingly. "She don't want to see you or Logan right now. She needs to chill and get her head on straight before she decides which of you she wants, or whether she wants either of you at all."

Alec shook his head definitely, wishing he hadn't done so as the world seemed to spin a bit more than he was used to.

"It's not my way to sit back and let someone else decide my fate," he said. "That's her fault by the way. She's the one who showed me I had to live my own life."

His voices quavered a bit. OC looked at him sadly then threw her arm around his shoulders.

"Listen, Superman, I know she means something to you, but this isn't something you can go all ninja about to put it right," OC said. "You can't push her for an answer right now either. Right now, Max is livin' her own life and growing another one. I think … I think you need to be prepared to accept that she might not want you in it."

She saw the words cutting into him but felt she needed to be frank. There was a haunted look in his green eyes. He looked like he had been sucker punched and drawing his next breath was painful.

"Alec, she cares about you," OC explained. "I know that, so do you. But just caring might not be enough. You two have a history, and it ain't all good and happy. I know you put all that behind you—that's to your credit in a lot of ways. It makes you a better man than you probably realize, but it's not so easy for Max to just forget it all. I don't want to get too personal about your family tree with comments about leopards and spots, but you know what I'm sayin'."

"I can't walk away," he vowed. "I know what I want and what I don't. Cindy, I don't want to live without her. I can't."

OC sighed and shook her head consolingly.

"What if she decides she doesn't want you?" OC asked. "You come with a lot of baggage, Alec. Don't be tellin' Original Cindy that you can change. You can't, and even if you could, you wouldn't. That's not an insult. It's a fact. You are who you are—and who you are is what made her want you in the first place, fool. It's just that maybe who you are doesn't have a place with who Max wants to be."

"She's never wanted to be anything other than just Max," he shook his head disbelievingly.

"Oh, sugar, you are as thick as you are cute some days," she clucked her tongue. "This ain't about Max being Max. It's about Max being a mom. You both didn't have a childhood. She gonna have to fight everything so knows and do everything she can to see that her baby—pay attention when I say that because it is important that you get that through that pretty skull of yours—_her baby _has the life she thinks it deserves. You say you care about her?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied.

"Do anything for her?" OC asked. Alec looked at her with determination and nodded. "Then you'll do what's right by her and her baby. Maybe Logan's the daddy and maybe he ain't. It don't matter…"

"I know," Alec interrupted. "That's why I told her that I…"

OC snapped her fingers soundly, cutting off his interruption.

"Shut-to-the-up," OC said succinctly and pointed menacingly into his face. "I am speakin' truth here and there is no need for your to utter another syllable. Sit there and listen, tiger boy. If you love her, you'll leave her be to make up her own mind, and if she does choose Logan and you do really and truly love her, then you'll let her go."

"Does she love him more?" he asked jealously.

OC backhanded him again and glared at him angrily.

"What did I just say?" she barked. "This ain't about you, and it ain't about Logan! I don't know that Max will pick the one of you who she loves more. And don't ask me which that is because I don't know. Hell, I don't know that she'll be able to choose between you at all. Maybe she'll want to be rid of both of you if you keep acting like jackasses. That girl is having a baby and, oh yeah, she's got enough other problems in her world completely outside the fact that one of you slipped one passed the goalie on her. Let her be to get her head straight and have her baby without any more chaos or craziness from you two fools."

"I love her, Cindy," Alec said. "On some level, I always have and in what I guess passes for my heart, I feel like I always will. I could live without her, but I can't think of a single reason why I should or would want to."

OC looked at the sincerity in his eyes, burning through the inebriation. She sighed sorrowfully.

"I know," she said quietly.

"I'm going to lose her, aren't I?" he asked desolately.

OC offered him a soft but pitying look as he looked away and hung his head. She sighed heavily then reached over and pet his head pityingly.

"Oh sugar, don't plan your funeral just yet," she said then sighed as she took in his beseeching expression. "But yeah, I think the stars are not in your favor on this one."

**# # # #**

White sat at the table in his rundown command post. He listened intently to the phone call he was tapping from the phone currently located diagonally across the street. He grinned with sadistic pleasure as he heard the parties making their plans for the following day.

"So you'll come here?" Logan asked.

"Sure," Max said. "I need to get out. The walls are closing in."

"Good," he replied. "I mean, I'm glad you coming. I… I'm just glad."

"Don't read anything more into it than I'm just… dropping by, okay?" Max said.

He agreed and noted the time of her estimated arrival. The call disconnected and White slowly clapped his hands. It was easier than he hoped. He lifted his phone and dialed.

"Do you have news?" Renfro answered, cutting out any pleasantries. "You've been out of touch for more than a week."

"Give me 48 hours," he said, purposefully extending his time line. Managing expectations was a specialty of his in his previous career. "I will need a transport team at the read. I'll call as soon as I have anything confirmed."

"Very well," she said. "I don't suppose you'll tell me where…"

"Oh, right," he lied smoothly. "Changed locations. I'm in Portland. I'll call with coordinates once I have acquired the target."

He disconnected and looked back at the computer sitting on the table. He pet it affectionately as it played three card monte with his GPS. As far as Renfro's spies and traces were concerned, he was hundreds of miles away from his current location at that moment.

**# # # #**

Bright morning sunshine filled the apartment as Max lumbered into the kitchen. She placed a hand strategically on her hip to help with her balance as her belly entered the room before she did. She used the other hand to wipe her bleary eyes, sticky and puffy from too much crying the night before.

"Hey, Boo," OC said handing Max a very milky coffee. Carr could stuff his restrictions on this morning, she decided. "How you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess," she said. "These pajama pants still almost fit so I'm calling today a good one."

"Way to find the bright side," OC yawned appreciatively.

"Late night," Max remarked. "I never heard you come in. So, is the new girl a keeper?"

"No girl—old boy friend," she said and paused considering whether she should say anything but opted to do so as honesty was her only policy. "I was with Alec until pretty late last night."

"Alec?" Max asked and stifled a yawn of her own. "Why?"

"The boy is heartbroken and lonely," OC said. "I figured it was my duty to keep him busy so he didn't find any more trouble he's got already. What are you doing up so early?"

"I… uh… I called Logan," she replied.

"You did?" OC replied. "Why? You make a decision?"

"Not really," Max said. "I said I would see him. Just see him. He wants to talk again—in person."

"And?" OC asked.

"And that's it," Max said. "I told him we could talk but that I have a lot on my mind so that he shouldn't try dropping a ring on me if that was his intention. He agreed that wasn't going to happen. We're just going to have dinner tomorrow and talk. Nothing more."

"About what?" OC asked.

"Well, about what happened between us," Max said. "About what he wants and…"

"About Alec?" OC offered. "Girl, you can't have no talks about the future until you deal with the past. You got busy with Alec when you were getting some from Logan. This isn't you slipping in your celibacy while you and Logan couldn't touch. You made the choice to get down and sweaty with your boy when Logan was willing and able."

"I know," Max said.

OC paused and regarded her with a quizzical expression as a question she had wondered about came to mind.

"Why did you?" OC asked. "You never said. All that time, you and Alec were at each other at Jam Pony and later at TC together with no one and nothing to stop you, but you waited until nothing was keeping you from Logan anymore. It doesn't make sense if Logan is the love of your life like you always claimed."

"I never said he was the love of my life," Max countered. "Not exactly. I love Logan, I do."

"You love Alec?" OC challenged. "I know you've got some feelings for him—pent up and tearing you up inside, but that don't mean it's love. You care about him and it's not your way to hurt people you care about, but do you love him in the sense of the big L-O-V-E?"

Max bit her lip and looked away. She wrung her hands and sighed heavily as she hung her head.

"I just… I don't know who or what anything is lately," she answered.

"I have yet to hear the word no," OC noted.

"Logan was the one I always wanted to be with and when we couldn't be together, it got so complicated," Max explained in a soft and uncertain tone. "Then, all that was fixed, but there was Alec and…"

"Exactly, so speaking of, you need to figure this out—for you, for Logan and for him," OC asked. "So, is Alec lust of your life, the love of your life, or just a mistake?"

**# # # #**

Alec double checked the hallway to make sure no one had followed. He was certain no one had—this building was abandoned due to its proximity to the burned out and bombed out shell that once was Terminal City—but he felt the need to verify his belief. His hearing wasn't as acute as it once had been. He then closed the door and turned to face the occupant who had summoned him to this stop.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Alec demanded.

"Joshua come help Alec find Max," the transhuman nodded.

"Great," Alec scowled. "Well, you can't exactly run around town helping me, can you? Look, Joshua, I appreciate the offer, but it's not safe for you. You need to go back to… your father."

"Need to find Max first," Joshua shook his head.

Alec paced. Keeping Joshua under wraps would be difficult, but not impossible. Scoring food for him, again, not easy but not out of his skill set. Keeping him away from Alec's plans to get Max out of the city—and keeping her condition a secret from the people Joshua trusted and considered family was going to be a challenge.

"Okay, here's the plan," Alec said. "You stay here. I'll go… look for Max. I'll check in with you… somehow."

"Phone," Joshua said, pulling out a cellular phone then taking Alec's and holding them side by side. "A present from father—just like Alec's. Call him and Colonel Don if trouble."

"Right," Alec nodded mechanically as he rubbed his hair agitatedly and continued to pace. "Okay, so phone. Great. What's the number?"

Joshua repeated it. Alec nodded and took the phone from his hand. He promised he would be back in the evening after he spent the days checking for Max. Joshua nodded and promised not to call anyone, father or Colonel Don, without checking first with Alec. With rattled nerves, Alec stalked out of the abandoned building to find a place to think in peace.

"Okay, no calls, no leaving and no talking to anyone other than me," Alec said pointing at Joshua. "Stick to the plan, Josh."

"Stick to the plan," Joshua repeated as he nodded. "Alec's plan."

Joshua returned to the back of the large apartment. He had a bag of food, supplied by Colonel Don. He was told to not eat it all in the first day. He agreed. He pulled the items out and looked at them quietly. He lined them up and then pushed them back into a group. He divided them into smaller groups. It was like making art that he could change over and over again. He chuckled at the fun when the phone trilled.

Joshua looked at it and cocked his head to the side. He pressed the button to answer it and forgot all about Alec's plan.

**# # # #**

Max entered the darkened apartment and was instantly enveloped into gargantuan hug that lifted her off her feet and swung her arm the room.

"Hey there, Little Fellah," Joshua crowed then instantly put her down.

He cocked his head to the side curiously as he observed her carefully.

"Changes," he said. "Little Fellah not so little."

"Uh, yeah, you noticed that, huh?" Max nodded. "Turns out that I'm having a baby, Joshua."

"Little Fellah having a littler fellah," he replied with a chuckle and a grin. "Big news. No wonder Alec can't find Max. Not know what she looks like now."

She nodded and kept the scowl for Alec off her face. She didn't know what he was up to, but she was certainly going to find out. She had called Alec that morning and found Joshua answering. The transhuman explained he had only just arrived back in the city to help Alec. That he claimed he was there to help Alec locate her just raised a lot of questions she wasn't going to pose to her friend. She would save those for Alec. Finding him, however, was proving difficult as it appeared he and Joshua had inadvertently swapped phones.

"Yeah, about that," she said. "Any idea where is he?"

"Out looking for Max," Joshua said. "Alec be excited to see max. Baby is big news."

"Yeah, big," she said and placed her hand on the bump at her midriff.

Warmer weather meant less clothing needed so scoring a new wardrobe wasn't as difficult. The bad news was the jackets and sweaters and hoodies came off with rising temperatures, so did the cloaking ability to cloak herself using multiple layers. Still, she hoped keeping a low profile would offer her some protection from those still actively and openly hunting transgenics. Also, she was placing a bit of faith in the dignity and hesitancy of ordinaries not to chase down and beat a pregnant woman if she was identified as one of her kind.

"Big, happy news," Joshua smiled and looked at her expectantly.

"Kind of," Max replied. "More of a shock than anything. I mean, it's not the kid's fault, but when I look at the world she's gonna have to live in, I just don't know if I did the right thing keeping her."

"Her," Joshua repeated and placed his hand on her abdomen. "Not the kid. Kid is a goat, Max. Your baby. Her."

She saw the soft and kind look in his eyes. He did not correct her often, but when he did, Joshua was usually right. The hard persona, the 'I can kick your ass without breaking a sweat' mentality, was fine when Max's back was against the wall and situations got tense, but that was no way to talk about the child, she knew. It wasn't a virus or a weapon or a soldier. It was a vulnerable creature in need of protection and nurturing. Max shook her head as a new avalanche of worry crash down over her.

"Hell of a mother I'm going to be," she shook her head and sniffled. "I'm talking about her like she's some annoying X-6 under my command."

"X-5 point 1," Joshua offered and smiled at her with his eyes. "New generation. Logan and Max got busy to make a baby."

Max looked at him with a solemn expression. She shrugged then hung her head. He might express himself in simple sentences, but there was no doubt that Joshua fully comprehended the matters of heart and what motivated people. He was naïve at times, but that was mostly because he believed the best of people and could see them for who they truly where inside. His paintings were an expression of that; few could understand them because few people could fathom the depths of the dog man. Max looked up to see a small rolled up an sticking out of a bag near a pile of canned goods.

"You brought a painting with you?" she asked, unrolling it.

It was a wild combination of straight, rigid lines and swirling colors that seemed to come together in an indescribable pattern for some purpose she could not articulate.

"A gift," he nodded. "For Alec. To feel better."

"Feel better?" she observed, walking toward it and touching the raised globs and furrows of color. "You mean because he was sick?"

"Father helping… some," Joshua said.

"Father?" Max asked and felt her heart stutter.

"Yes," Joshua smiled. "Father helping. Colonel Don helping. Hope remains."

Max felt her throat and mouth grow instantly dry. Sandeman and Lydecker. Together. She didn't know what to think of that and pushed it to the back of her mind for a moment. Nor did she fully understand the comment about Alec and help and hope. She merely nodded and let it slide for the moment. She would ask Alec outright when she saw him and if she felt he was holding out or lying, she would seek clarification from Joshua.

"What do you call this one?" she asked, hoping her voice did not sound too strained as she focused on the new painting.

"New Alec," he beamed.

"Another one of Alec?" she questioned. "Didn't the last one cover everything?"

"Alec, then, yes," Joshua nodded. "Not Alec now. Changes, like Little Fellah, big and small. Still same in some way, but different in others. New Alec. Better inside—in Alec's heart."

"Better?" Max asked. "Really? Looks like there's all that darkness still."

Joshua shook his head slowly and knowingly as he explained the composition sagely.

"Never lose it," Joshua agreed. "Part of him. Always. All this, dark straight lines, knowledge. All training and rules to follow when world gets nasty. Structure and plans."

"Manticore," she nodded. It was always there, the skeleton, his structure.

"Some," Joshua agreed. "Not all. Also loyalty to friends, Joshua and Max and Logan."

"Logan?" Max wondered and shook her head.

"Bring cure for Max and Logan," Joshua said. "Many levels of friends."

Max shrugged. Whatever game or scheme Alec was running, he certainly had not let Joshua in on many developments. In some respects, she understood that. Sandeman and Lydecker together could mean a variety of trouble. The only thing not sending Max into a fleeing panic was Joshua. He was there, apparently free, and unconcerned. That realization steadied her and helped calm her spastic heart.

"All this," he said, waving his hand over the rigid and straight lines in the picture. "Structure. Protection and help, like when Alec go to Russia for bitch virus cure or try to face down bad guys so Original Cindy could run. Sometimes lines cross and bad things happen. Sometimes, lines are straight and all goes well."

Max nodded, mesmerized by his insight as much by the composition of the painting. Joshua looked at the depiction with the same affection and understanding as he did when he looked at and spoke of Alec. To him, the image and the man were one in the same.

"Color is all feelings," he continued. "Some mixed—muddled and confused—to steal or not to steal; to stay or to run; love and hurt."

"You mean hate," Max said. "Love and hate."

"No hate inside Alec, except for Alec's past," Joshua said. "All this red not hate. Red is Alec's heart. Very big, a little messy."

Max nodded in agreement. All matters of the heart were messy in her opinion, hers was no exception and certainly neither was Alec's.

"Other colors, other emotions," Joshua continued. "Yellow and orange, games and jokes; purple and blue, tricks and treats."

"All the green is money?" Max ventured. "I would have thought that would be under the tricks part."

"No," Joshua explained. "Green is life, new life. Alec's hope."

"That's a lot of hope," Max noted, unconsciously placing her hand on her bulging belly.

"Much hope in Alec now," Joshua replied. "Hope inside now stronger than fear. Alec growing up, becoming who he wants to be, was meant to be."

"Any chance he was meant to be a father?" Max asked before she thought to stop the words from tumbling over her lips.

"Alec not father," Joshua shook his head then looked at Max with a probing gaze.

"Maybe," Max shrugged as she rubbed the bulge under her shirt.

"Max and Alec baby?" Joshua wondered.

"I don't know," Max admitted ashamedly. "Things have been messed up for a while, Joshua. I… made some bad decisions."

"Max loved Logan," Joshua said.

"Yes, I did," she agreed. "I mean, I do. I still do, but…"

"Max loves Alec," he said without surprise and nodded knowingly. "Not bad decision to feel love for many people."

"Well, it is when you unintentionally procreate," Max scoffed. "I was never that kind of person. I don't know what happened. I lost my head. Maybe it was something the doctor did to me when she was working on Logan's cure. I never wanted this to happen."

"Past doesn't matter, Max," Joshua said. "Future matters. Baby matters. Love is a good thing. Max loves her baby?"

She nodded. That was an easy question. She worried at first that she was mistaking pity and guilty for love, but she had done a fair amount of soul searching and she was certain. Her instant inclination not to terminate the pregnancy was all the convincing she needed. It was more than a biological urge to protect the child. She did truly want to know her little girl. Sometimes, when she could quiet her mind enough, Max could picture herself with the child, just the two of them together in a warm embrace. That the girl would spend her life hunted and always looking over her shoulder pained Max to no end and kept her fear at the front of all of her emotions.

"Then no worries," Joshua assured her. "Logan loves Max. Alec loves Max. Both will love Max's baby. Whoever Max loves most can be father."

"It doesn't work like that," Max shook her head. "Logan's mad at me because Alec might be the father. Alec's mad at me because he wants me to choose him even if he's not the father. I don't want to talk to either of them half of the time. I just want all this to stop."

Joshua looked at her anguished face and sighed then offered her a sympathetic whimper. He brighten a moment later when a solution came to his mind.

"Let Joshua be father," he offered as a compromise.

"What?" Max asked, looking at him as if she had not heard him correctly.

"Max not choose Logan or Alec, then Joshua will be father," he nodded. "Joshua cared for transhumans at Manticore. Protected them. Fed them. Cared for them. Joshua help Max. Joshua love Max's baby. No heartbreak. Max loves Joshua. Joshua loves Max."

She looked at him with a caring expression. He was offering her what he thought was a reasonable solution. When she thought about it, it wasn't a bad idea, having Joshua help her raise the child (other than the need for him to remain out of all public view). He certainly was caring and trustworthy. He would doubtlessly protect the baby with his life. He certainly did love Max as family. There was no reason why he shouldn't be a large part of the child's life. Joshua was warm and understanding; he was unspeakably kind and had a peaceful wisdom about him that Max found comforting. She didn't love him the way she loved the candidates for the biological father, but he was family.

"Well, only Logan or Alec is the actual father, and I need to deal with both of them once we sort out that part," she said with a smile. "But you certainly will be the only uncle my little girl has. If you're interested in being the nanny as well, the job is yours. I'm gonna need all the help I can get and this little girl deserves the best."

"Joshua will be the best Uncle Nanny," he laughed gratefully and pulled her into an exuberant embrace.

"Ooo, not so hard, Big Fellah," Max grunted as he held her tightly. "The baby's a little more fragile than me. Plus, if you squeeze me anymore, I might pee on your floor."

"Sorry, Littler Fellah," he replied, releasing her then petting the bulge gently. "No more mushing."

**# # # #**

Alec entered the mostly dark apartment just after night fall and was glad to see Joshua still there. Alec had spent the day talking to various contacts and formulating their escape plan. It was a bit tricky now that Joshua was in the mix, but he thought he had it covered. The trick meant moving fast—the next day if possible. Granted, leaving so soon to Max's due date wasn't wise, he knew, but now that Lydecker and Sandeman were closer to learning about Max and her baby, he couldn't risk it.

She wouldn't like it and she would fight him the whole way, but Alec was certain this was the right thing. Of course, the knot in his stomach all day kept telling him to slow down and stop making plans without discussing it with Max, but there wasn't time for consideration or committee. This needed to be done. She was just going to have to do what he said for once.

"Hey, Josh," Alec called as he walked toward the back of the dwelling.

"Alec?" the transhuman smiled as he stooped over the stovetop stirring a pot.

Alec noted a scent in the air that defied a precise description. He cocked his head to the side and regarded his friend curiously.

"Did you make, I guess we'll call it, soup?" Alec wondered, looking toward the large pot.

The aroma of chicken and a few other not readily identifiable ingredients filled the air, but the noises from the pot were those of a sloshing sound.

"Need to learn to cook more than hotdogs and macaroni and cheese," Joshua said nodding. "Good news, Alec."

"Oh yeah?" Alec wondered as her peered around the big man's arm toward the pot on the stove. "You planning on opening a restaurant now?"

"No, Joshua found Max!" he cheered. "Or, Max found Joshua."

Alec looked at him stone-faced. He was speechless, but found he did not have to say much as the dogman was bubbling over with details.

"You did?" Alec replied. "Where?"

"Here," he smiled. "Max having baby."

Alec nodded. Not sure if he was supposed to respond and decided the wisest course of action was to say nothing until he was asked a direct question. Joshua did not like being lied to and it would take some explaining for Alec to get him to understand why he had. However, the transhuman did not appear to need more information. Instead, he poured some of the mixture into a mug and handed it to Alec.

"Noodles and chicken soup is good medicine," Joshua explained. "Make little girl better if sick."

"What little girl?" Alec wondered and looked around the cabin expecting to see some stray Joshua picked up. "You sly dog, you picking up sick chicks and cooking for them now?"

"No chicks," Joshua shook his head as he handed the mug to Alec. "For Max's baby."

Alec put the mug down quickly and gave Joshua a hard and demanding stare. He gripped the transhuman's arm tightly.

"What happened?" he repeated with alarm. "Where is Max? Is she sick? What happened to the baby?"

Joshua pried Alec's fingers off his arm and put the mug back in his hands then pet him on the cheek in a friendly and reassuring way.

"All is good," Joshua said firmly then smiled. "No one sick. Max and baby healthy. Joshua will be uncle and nanny."

"Uncle and a nanny?" Alec repeated then sighed with relief. He shook his head and felt his heart still hammering in his chest. "You're learning to cook soup so you can take care of the baby if it gets sick in the future?"

Joshua nodded and smiled. He looked encouragingly at Alec then the mug. Alec shook his head then took a sip of the culinary creation. It was hot, he noticed that instantly as it scalded his tongue and mouth. Next, he noticed the odd mix of flavors. It was definitely chicken and noodle soup at one point. When and how peanut butter and olives entered the equation, Alec did not know, but thinking back across his life, he knew he had eaten worse things.

"Next time, ditch the olives and," Alec reported as he dipped his fingers quickly into the mug to retrieve the floating object from the liquid, "remove the chicken bones before serving it. Otherwise, not so bad."

"No bones, no olives, check," Joshua repeated to himself then nodded. "Good nanny will remember that."

"Nanny, huh?" Alec repeated, deciding if he could convince Joshua to go with him, getting Max to agree would be easier than he thought. "So, Max hired you to help out?"

"Joshua offered to be father," he said. "Max said no. Baby only needs Uncle Nanny."

"She said the baby doesn't need a father?" Alec asked.

Joshua looked at Alec with a sad gaze. He could see the anxiety in Alec's face and hear the heartbreak in his voice. Why anyone thought Alec was good at hiding his feelings or that he could fool anyone when he tried to mask them was a mystery to Joshua. Alec was one of the easiest people for him to understand. His motivations were always simple to decipher. When he grew cold, he was hurting. When he grew distant, he was afraid for someone he cared about. When he was glued to a TV, he was bored. When he was loud and talkative, he was lonely. When he was aggressive and belligerent, he was angry. When he was peaceful and smiling, he was happy.

"Baby already has a father," Joshua said.

"So she's going to be with whoever the father is?" Alec asked hotly. "She doesn't have a preference who she'd rather be with or does she actually know and she's not telling me?"

"Max wants best for baby," Joshua said. "Max loves baby most."

"Right," Alec scoffed. "What's best. Well, that makes it simple, I guess."

"Not simple," Joshua shook his head. "Hard for Max. Very sad. Very worried. Must do what's right. Not good for her to worry. Not good for baby."

"No, I guess it's not," Alec said shaking his head.

Alec stood up and paced for a moment. He shook his head, waging an internal debate in his mind. He sighed heavily as he stared at the floor.

_She asked for space. You didn't listen. You keep showing up. You keep injecting yourself into her life, trying to influence her, convince her, push her to choose. She hasn't called you once. She's never asked to see you. She made a date with Logan, though, didn't she? She loved him first. He's the one playing by the rules, her rules. He hasn't pushed her to choose. He's respected her wishes. You don't. You're what's making her worry and fear for the baby's health. You're the one hurting her; you're the problem. _

Joshua watched Alec's agitation boil over inside him and scald his heart and mind.

"Be still, Alec," Joshua commanded him with a mild growl. "Max needs to be mother, not prize for Logan or Alec. Scared for her baby. Needs friends, not fights."

Alec looked at him with an expression of resignation then agreement mingled with guilt. He heard Joshua's words, he heard OC's words and he again heard Max's words echoing in his head. He nodded slowly.

"You're right," Alec swallowed hard as he relented. "My bad."

"Alec loves Max," Joshua offered. "Logan loves Max, too. Hard for her. Baby must come first. Everything else second. Do what's right for Max and baby girl."

"I know," Alec sighed and sat heavily at the table. He put down the mug and placed his head in his hands and spoke to himself more than to Joshua. "The baby may not be mine anyway, right?"

"Alec love Max but not the baby?" Joshua wondered. Alec looked at him in surprise. "Alec didn't say he wants to be father."

"No, I didn't, did I?" Alec remarked.

_All you've said is that you want to be with Max_, Alec told himself. _You just thought of it like a package deal, but you never really thought about it, about what would be right for both of them. That's what you always do, the selfish thing. That's really no way to raise a kid, is it? Max and the baby's needs come first. If you actually loved Max properly, you'd know that and act like it, wouldn't you? You'd do the right thing for once._

"Yes," Joshua nodded. "Them first."

"Then that's what I have to do," Alec said standing up and walking to the door.

"Yes, good," Joshua agreed then noted the downtrodden look on Alec's face as he started to leave. The transhuman began shaking his head vigorously with a confused expression. "Wait? Where Alec going? Joshua didn't mean Alec must leave. Alec? Alec? Come back!"

Alec did not turn back. He closed the door and stepped into the inky darkness. Joshua rushed to the door and opened it in time to see the taillights of his motorcycle streak out of view.

"Where Alec going?" the transhuman sighed into the night air.

**# # # #**

The knock on the door wasn't loud or demanding. It was, however, unexpected. Max peered through the spy hole with a raised eyebrow then opened the door. She greeted Alec with a stern expression, prepared to pepper him with questions about what other information he was withholding.

"Interesting timing?" Max remarked as she opened the door to see Alec waiting there. "You've got some explaining to do."

She tried to keep her words firm but not angry, expecting his typical flirtatious come-ons to begin, but he said nothing. Alec looked at her with a devastatingly serious and sorrowful expression. For a moment, her heart clenched. She feared hearing terrible news about Joshua.

"What is it?" she asked as her mouth went dry. "Alec, what's going on?"

"You need to go to Logan and you need to go now," he said in a low and morose tone that sound as though he was on the verge of tears.

"What's happened?" she asked, feeling her heart start to race.

"Nothing," he replied. "I want to keep it that way."

"What did you do?" she asked and saw him wince at the assumption he was causing a problem. "I mean, what's wrong? What are you…?

"I'm leaving," he said. "I was going to just go and not say anything, but then I thought I should at least tell you so that you didn't waste any time looking for me when it wasn't necessary. Not that you would, but you have more important concerns in your life. I've taken up enough of your time already, Max."

"I don't understand," Max replied looking at him with confusion. "Where are you going and for how long?"

The baby was due in two weeks. It seemed an odd time for him to be taking off for anything. He had made himself a fixture in her world despite her request that he make himself scarce. Truthfully, she ahd generally looked forward to the time when he arrived each day. Alec brought with him an air of spontaneity that made her feel less restricted than her confinement generally allowed. They did not always leave the apartment, but he somehow managed to make her feel like they had an outing each time. She also missed him as soon as he departed. There was an energy around him that was invigorating and refreshing, if at times aggravating (although she found herself smiling at those moments more often than not). It was as though time and her condition were less of a burden when Alec was around.

"I'm not sure and forever, I guess," Alec nodded and turned to leave. His plan was to go to the medical compound and deal with Lydecker and hope Sandeman paid as little interest in Max and the other transgenics has he had in recently.

"Wait," Max tried to interrupt and grabbed his arm. "Did you say forever?

"I've been doing some thinking about everything," Alec continued, unable to look her in the eye. "Logan's a good guy and he can protect you and keep you safe. Besides, he was always the one for you. You fell for him and went through hell to be with him. That… that says a lot. I see it now. It was him that you really always wanted, and he can make you truly happy. I don't know what happened between you and me or why, but I guess you were right when you said it was a… fling."

"No, Alec, come in here," she said, trying to get him to step inside as the phone began to ring. "She looked over her shoulder at it but ignored the summons. "You're not making any sense. What happened? Why are you saying this?"

He looked at her with pain etched deep into his eyes and regret radiated from his expression.

"I want you to be happy, Max," he swallowed hard and spoke in a strained voice. "I mean that. Manticore didn't teach me a lot that is… good, but the one thing I did take away from them was that when there is a problem or threat and you can neutralize it, that's what you do. So, I'm removing the threat to your happiness: me."

"Alec, stop," she shook her head. "I know I was harsh the other day, but I'm sorry. Look, this isn't a war game or mission in the field."

"No, it's life," he said with difficulty. "It's your life and… your baby's. We both know that I haven't done a whole lot of good in my life, but this is something I can do to make things right for you, for both of you. All this hanging around and trying to make you choose between me and Logan isn't making you happy. It isn't good for you, and I see now that neither am I. Let's face it. I should have listened to you weeks ago. I'm not the parental type. I'm not reliable, and I make some… a lot of horrible choices. I'm not a role model for kid. Your baby needs a real family and not have someone like me hanging around, bringing trouble into your lives. I don't know what I was thinking when I said I could be… something other than what I am."

Max reached again for his hand, to try and make him step inside, but he pulled way.

"Alec, why are you saying all of this?" she asked in a scared voice.

"It's okay, Max," he offered her a sad smile. "I'm doing the right thing for once. You don't need to worry anymore. You were happy with Logan until I came along and screwed everything up for you, so I'm fixing it. I got in the way when I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

"You aren't saying goodbye," she shook her head with a sinking feeling in her stomach as the answering machine picked up the unanswered call. "Alec, don't do this. Not now. Whatever you're thinking, it's not making sense to me. Tell me what's happened."

He tipped is head down and kissed her forehead briefly.

"Take care of yourself, Max," he said softly as his eyes grew glassy with tears that would not spill.

From the voice emanating from the machine, Max clearly heard Joshua's voice urgently asking for her. She held up her hands to Alec to wait while she rushed for the phone. She lifted it and heard Joshua's anxious voice telling her he was sorry. He spoke in a blur of words that made little sense, mentioning something about olives and chicken bones before stating he told Alec something that made him upset so that he took off. Joshua apologized profusely as Max quickly turned her head back to the doorway to see that it was now empty. She dropped the phone and rushed toward the door.

The hallway was empty as well. Max returned to the phone and looked out the window to the vacant lot below to see Alec pulling away on his motor cycle.

**# # # #**

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**A/N: **The finale is coming next…


	16. Chapter 16

**Title**: THE MISSION (Chapter 16)

**Synopsis**: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]

**Notes**: This is the end, dear readers. Thanks for coming along for the ride and for all of your reviews. I appreciated your questions, your comments, your insights and your suggestions. You helped shape the story (some of you even made cameo appearances in it). Hope you enjoy the finale. I dropped the pieces on fanfic today (the two final chapters of this story and a complete but brief Supernatural fanfic). I had to because I really need to get back to writing my second novel and did not want to leave any of you hanging and waiting. My word is my bond and I vowed to you I would finish this, so I did. Thanks for all your reviews and private messages. And a HUGE thanks most especially to those who have picked up my novel and are giving me encouragement to finish the sequel. I hope to return to the fanfic world in a few months with something new once my manuscript hits to copyright office giving me so real free time. Until then, _namaste_, _friends_.

* * *

**# # # #**

OC ran her hands through her hair again, giving it a frizzy and vertical look as she waited for Max to disconnect from her latest call to Joshua. She had been in a frantic dialing mode since OC returned home from work that evening. Her explanation that Alec lost his mind and ran away didn't make sense to OC either, but what in Max's little love triangle did anymore?

Against Max's wishes, OC called Logan and gave him the rundown. To his credit, he did not crow with glee at the news of Alec's departure. Sure, there was a hint of victory in his voice, but it was dampened quickly by OC's sternly cleared throat. Thereafter, he expressed some genuine concern. If Alec was fleeing, something might be wrong. OC didn't think that was the case, at least nothing big and bad anyone need to worry over. She figured the only thing Alec was running from was Alec, but putting Logan on alert just seemed wise in case she was wrong.

She then waited for Max to disconnect from her call to Joshua.

"What did doggy dog say?" OC asked, handing Max another tissue to mop her tear stained cheeks. "What did he tell Alec that spooked him?"

"I don't know," Max shook her head. "I don't know what happened. They were talking about Joshua being the nanny, and then Joshua said he reminded Alec that I needed to put the baby first now and not worry about him and Logan."

"Is something a little curdled in sugar man's pudding from his beat down a few months ago?" OC asked. "Alec's been following you like wolf on the trail of his dinner. Why he gonna up and bug out now? Because Joshua told him something he already knows? Makes no sense. What did Alec tell you?"

"He said he wanted me to be happy," Max replied, blotting her eyes before blowing her nose. "He said he screwed things up for me and Logan, and he was doing this to fix it."

OC relaxed suddenly and nodded. She sighed and shook her head as she sat on the couch.

"Oh," OC said knowingly. "That's it."

"What?" Max asked. "He hasn't cared if he messed things up for Logan me all this time. He actually wanted things to stay messed up so I wouldn't choose Logan. What changed?"

OC laughed and looked at Max. She stopped her chuckling but continued to stare at Max because the reason, as far as she could see, was obvious.

"You about to make him a daddy," OC observed. "Or Logan. Either way, the baby is gonna be here soon. Seems to me Alec got freaked. Don't you see? He got scared, Boo."

"He's known the baby was coming for a while," Max disagreed. "It isn't news to him."

"He knew, but was it real?" OC asked. "He bolted because his head is weaving him some nasty stories his heart isn't able shout down because of how he feels."

"This is Alec being scared?" Max scoffed. "No, when Alec gets scared, he attacks things. He only runs away to save his own neck."

"He don't see it that way this time," OC replied. "Max, he loves you, and it scares him. He doesn't want to hurt you, and his head is telling him that he is hurting you so he wants to protect you."

"By leaving?" she asked. "Joshua has cell phone. No one can find him. He's gone to ground. That doesn't seem like love to me."

"It does if you think about it for a minute," OC said. "Alec loves you, and he loves your baby, but he doesn't know why since it might not be his. So he doubts that he actually has those feelings. See? The feeling is the same, love is love, but Alec don't know that. He knows how to kill a man a thousand different ways; he knows how to break into the most secure building and get out undetected. He knows how to hide and survive with a price on his head, but he doesn't really know anything about love. He may even feel a little guilty about how he hooked up with you; in his mind, he stole Logan's girl. That don't make you really his, so he's got doubts."

"Because I won't choose between them?" Max sniffled and shook her head. "Am I really supposed to have all this sorted out? Now? I'm sort of busy with the whole gestation thing!"

"Don't be barking at a sister," OC said firmly then patted Max on the back. "I know you're at your breaking point. Alec shouldn't have done this, not now, but I can see what he's going through, Sugar. He sees you under all this stress, and he thinks it's his fault. The boy loves you, comes here ever day to see you and make sure you're okay. He wants to make everything better for you, so what did he do?"

"Made everything worse," Max choked.

"Not in his mind," OC soothed. "He thinks he's the problem, so he solved the problem. He fell back on what he knows, what Manticore taught him: remove the threat. I'll give the brother this: He's come a long way from his solider boy days. A few years ago, that kind of thinking might have had him killing Logan, but that's not what he did, is it?"

Max nodded. As cold and insane as it sounded, not committing murder was actually impressive and a huge improvement

"So instead, he cleared the way for me to go back to Logan," Max shook her head, understanding what OC was saying.

"Exactly," OC said, stroking her hair comfortingly.

"Do I get a choice?" Max asked. "I don't even know what I want to do. Why did he choose for me?"

"That's why he made it simple," OC replied. "You told me about his first girl, Rachel. He loved her and what happened? He got her killed. Well, what he felt for that girl was nothing compared to what he feels for you. He doesn't want to hurt you, Max. He's afraid he won't be good enough for your baby, and he knows she means everything to you. So he did what he did to try and let you and her be happy."

"How can he be so… stupid?" Max growled.

"Well, he's being kind of noble," OC observed. "It's crazy-stupid, too, but he gets points in my book for chivalry for falling on his sword like this."

"Chivalry is leaving me like this?" Max asked. "Doesn't what I feel matter?"

"And how is he supposed to know what you feel?" OC remarked her. "You ever told him what you feel for him? He knows you slept with him, but have you ever told him that you want him, that you need him or that you think he's worth something to you? 'Cause I gotta say, if he thought there was a future for him with you, he wouldn't have left."

Max sat sullenly. She hung her head as she wiped her eyes then shook her head.

"You got any future with him?" OC asked. "Do you even how you feel? I know you care about Alec. You got the magnet for him because he's pretty, but is that all it is? You said you didn't want to hurt him if you choose Logan, but that isn't the same as love. You love Joshua like family. What is Alec to you? You hated when you first met him. Then you got a little randy for him and your lust got you into his bed. Is that all it is? An itch that you like the way he scratches? You had your big tortured romance with Logan, but Alec came into the picture like lightning. Is he more than that, or is he just an intense flash with nothing but smoldering remains afterward?"

Max sighed sullenly and thought for a moment. She couldn't think straight lately. Everything was hectic and on her nerves. If it wasn't making her angry, it was making her hungry or making her cry. She shook her head, unsure how to answer as all she felt at that moment was mixture of sorrow at Alec's departure and anger with him for picking this time to bail on her. OC looked at her, waiting patiently for a response. Max shrugged as she contemplated how she actually felt. Then suddenly, as if unwilling to wait to hear the answer, the baby gave her a vicious jab in the side and then bounced on her bladder forcing her to hurry toward the bathroom.

**# # # #**

Ames White slid his van into the empty lot behind the 10 story slum building. His recently intercepted phone call brought yet another smile to his face. He hadn't bothered to call Renfro. He was going to take care of this on his own. It was going to be easier than he imagine, too. He watched cautiously as the lesbian roommate left the building. From the canvas bag tucked under her arm, she was heading to the market on the corner. From the phone call he overheard, that mean her newly discovered roommate should be exiting the building shortly to rendezvous with loverboy… Correction, subject one in her male-harem.

It only took 10 minutes until she appeared, her full-figure silhouetted under the guttering street light. She was to be waiting on the corner for Cale to arrive and pick her up to give her solace for the night and help her figure out where her other sex toy might have rabbitted to for the night.

He waited for the light to change and the street to empty as he pulled up to the curb just behind her. She was on the phone, leaving a message from the sound of it, when he grabbed her, slamming shut the phone. He held her tightly with one arm then clouted her soundly on the head with the butt of his gun. Her knees buckled instantly although she did not lose consciousness entirely as he held up against his chest and pressing his gun at her swollen belly.

"Aw," White cooed as he grinned menacingly. "I _tot I taw a putty-tat_. And look, two for the price of one, you little slut."

Max struggled clumsily. Her ears were ringing and her vision was blurred. Her arms and legs felt disconnected from her body, but when she registered the voice snarling in her ear, her blood ran cold and she froze. She felt the muzzle of the gun, pressing hard into her stomach and trembled.

"You so much as twitch and I'll put a slug right through your kitten," he hissed. "It'll die instantly and I'll still have you to carve up for my own pleasure."

"Don't," Max said groggily.

"Fucking with someone's kid isn't so much fun when it happens to you, is it?" he sneered.

**# # # #**

Dawn was breaking in the east as the haggard crew gathered around the table in the house that had once belonged to the Sandeman family. Joshua sat in the corner, holding his arms around himself and rocking as he emitted soft growling and whimpering noises.

He broke with Alec's plan and now Max was missing. When he heard the man's voice over the call when he was talking to Max the previous night, his instinct was to call Alec, but he had no way to do that. So he turned to Alec's phone. There were many numbers in it. One of them was Logan's. He called and gave a frantic report. Now, hours later, Logan had summoned help. Colonel Don was in the house and had made some of his own phone calls. Joshua did not know who he called, but when he finished talking, Logan did a great deal of typing and pictures appeared on his computer screen. Colonel Don was drawing out a map of a building and pacing. They were waiting for someone. Joshua did not know who, but whoever it was, they hoped he would help them find Max in the building Colonel Don kept talking about.

"And you're sure?" Logan asked for the countless time.

"Cale, trust me," Lydecker said. "We've had it under surveillance for some time. We just don't have the men to go in an do anything. The good news is, they aren't around either. For some reason, they all bugged out a few days ago. My sources say nearly all of Renfro's men took off toward Portland in a hurry."

Logan sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was weary and worried and at his breaking point. He didn't want to think what might be happening to Max. If Lydecker was right, she was at the mercy of a man who did not know the meaning of the word. Lydecker's fury with Ames White was palable, but he wasn't pleased with Logan either. The little matter of Max's medical condition had taken him aback. Logan considered asking him to shift the blame in part to Alec as he was the one who had certainly been deceiving the colonel, but in that instinct, Logan felt a fraternity with Alec. He was glad the man kept Max's pregnancy a secret.

"So you think we can do this?" Logan asked. "I'm willing to try anything, but I don't want do anything that gets her killed. So, what I'm asking is: Is this our best option?"

Lydecker nodded. His assault team consisted of himself, Cale and Lydecker's driver at the moment. They needed at least one more and he had been waiting several hours, since his phone call just before midnight, for the final component to arrive. The sun was growing too bright signally the operative was late… or not coming.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess" Logan sighed resignedly.

"Not always," Alec said flatly as he appeared in the doorway.

"Alec?" Logan spun around to stare at him. He was surprised but glad to see him.

For as much as he hated to admit it, Max needed the kind of help Alec could provide right now—assuming he was all hopped up on his Wheaties again. Of course, even if he wasn't, she needed all the help she could get. If his speed and strength were no greater than a normal human's, he still possessed more combat, recon and infiltration experience than Logan did. The look the cyber journalist gave him with genuine relief.

"You don't agree?" Logan asked, watching him enter the room with a cagey stance as he eyed Lydecker.

"Not right now," Alec said in an eerie calm. "Some desperate situations call for thinking things through and coming up with a better plan so we don't fuck it up even more."

Logan nodded at that and felt oddly reassured by it. So he was dealing with the cool, mildly psycho-pathetic and deeply strategic part of Alec's personality. Or, if he was honest with himself and what he truly believed, the part of Alec that had been and always would be X5-494. Before this moment, that aspect of the transgenic's character was the root of why Logan felt he could not trust Alec. Now, he was never so pleased the wild creature was still up and kicking despite all that had happened to him in the last few years. Logan was reminded that, regardless of putting the moves on the woman he loved, Alec had also gone to Siberia and survived a sinking ship to bring him back his only hope of being with the woman he loved. That Alec managed to still possible steal her from Logan was a matter to settle another day. Right now, finding Max was the only issue on the table.

"You're late, soldier," Lydecker said, looking up at him with a critical eye.

"I'm here," Alec replied. "And I'm not your soldier. I suggest you stop calling me that or when this is done, I'll make you regret it."

"What were you heading out to do when I called?" Lydecker asked.

Alec turned his attention to the drawing on the table and studied it.

"Kill you," Alec replied as smoothly as if he had been asked what time it was.

"Take a little more than you've got right now to snap my neck, kid," Lydecker said without sounding offended or insulted.

"I know," Alec replied and laid a 10 mm Glock on the table. "That's why I was going to shoot you."

"Okay, school reunion later, guys," Logan said quickly. "Now is the time for a plan. Do you have any suggestions, Alec? I mean, something better than my offering of 'I don't know what to do' but we need to find her and Deck's suggestion that we go in guns blazing?"

"I'm with Deck on this," Alec nodded. "Question is: Can you stomach it?"

"Stomach what?" Logan asked.

"Doing exactly what it takes to make sure they can't touch her again," Lydecker replied.

"Neutralize the threat," Logan nodded, but Alec shook his head.

"Eliminate it," Alec corrected him. "It won't be easy or pretty, and you'll probably never sleep soundly again for the rest of your life because what you're going to have to do is going to stay with you."

"Look, I get it," Logan said. "This is not a game."

"How many people have you killed, Logan?" Alec asked.

His voice was devoid of emotion as was his face. His green eyes were cold and looked through Logan, as if slicing through him with surgical precision.

"None," he shook his head. "I never had a reason. I've defended myself, but…"

"Not the same thing," Lydecker said. "These people aren't after you."

"Well, they aren't after you either," Logan argued. "Enough with the strong solider crap. Okay, I get it. I may have to kill someone."

"Not may," Alec shook his head. "Will. You have to kill every single person who stands between you and Max. Every single person who crosses your path. Every single person you put your eyes on that is not me or Max."

"Or me," Lydecker offered and looked sideways at Alec.

"Jury's not in on you yet," Alec offered, his eyes still cold and unwavering. "Look, what you do today, it'll make you something you aren't right now."

"A murderer?" Logan asked and did not sound particularly bothered by it.

"A killer," Alec corrected him.

"The difference is a fine line, but it's what keeps you from putting a gun in your mouth," Lydecker added.

Logan thought for a moment and was reassured by the determination in Alec's eyes. He nodded back at the transgenic.

"Just point me in the right direction," Logan said.

**# # # #**

The quartet headed out just as the city was waking for the day. They sent Joshua, for his own safety, to Sam Carr. If they did not make it back, Carr's place would be a good hideout until Sandeman got curious about the lack of contact. He knew about the physican and would likely check with him for details.

The drive to the abandoned muffler plant an hour away was done in silence. Logan stared at the road. Lydecker nodded to some cadence in his head only he could hear. Alec stretched in his seat, arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles and head resting on the side window with his eyes closed. Logan wasn't sure if his calm was enviable or troubling. His own nerves were making him jumpy and feel like throwing up.

They arrived at a tree line a few hundred yards from the structure. Only one car, a van Logan had seen on a hacked traffic cam feed the previous night, sat near one of the large, metal doors. Lydecker's driver, someone Alec addressed with the name Poison but who Lydecker referred to as Lt. Muse, did a quick recon and reported back that there were only four armed men visible inside. With an almost telepathic precision, the soldiers in the group nodded. Lydecker jerked his chin forward, sending Alec and the driver off in their assignments. He then ordered Logan to fall in behind him.

Logan never remembered crossing the field in a crouch. He did not remember crawling through the pried open window. He did recall the quick bursts from Lydecker's gun and the and the two men at the end of the first hall they came to falling in heaps and not moving.

"You, that way," Lydecker said as additional gunfire echoed in the building. He pointed down the darkened hallway and to the left.

Logan scurried on trembling knees in the direction he was ordered. The hall was dark and had at one time been some sort of storage lock up. The various bays were dingy and dank with large openings wide enough to drive a forklift through. As he approached the end, having peered into each bay without any discoveries, he heard a woman's voice.

"You're worth more to me alive," the woman said. He could hear the odd click and clack of high heels on concrete as she spoke. "But I have to say, dead isn't a deal breaker and I can just cut your little half-breed out of you. That'll probably make up the difference in my losses for your lack of breathing."

It was the cold and vicious tone of her voice that brought up Logan's gun hand. He heard Alec's words in his mind again: _You have to kill every single person who stands between you and Max. Every single person who crosses your path. Every single person you put your eyes on that is not me or Max._

He began firing even before he was over the threshold. He did not look to see who else might be in the room or if someone might be firing back. He just emptied the clip, dropped it as he was taught, and slapped a new one into its place, but there was no need.

The woman with white hair, the one who had threatened to carve up Max, lay on the floor, oozing fluids and not moving. Logan stared at her, amazed and horrified at what he had done. He swallowed hard and felt like gagging, but stopped as Max's voice carried to him over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"Logan," she gasped.

He looked to the far wall to see her, sitting on the grimy floor with her legs splayed and her arms chained above her. Her face was swollen; she had been beaten. Her cheek was puffy. One eyes was swelling shut and her lip was bleeding as was her nose. Her breaths came in frantic gulps an sweat dripped off her chin.

"Are you hurt?" he asked and wanted to kick himself.

**# # # #**

Alec limped slightly as he picked up his gun and replaced it in the waistband of his jeans. His ankle was twisted, but it barely registered as pain. His skin felt hot, like his head might suddenly erupt into fire. His arms and legs tingled with pins and needles pricking him all over. His heart raced and his chest felt tight. He had been shot. He could see the blood dripping off his arm, but like his ankle, it was an annoyance more than anything. He looked at his partner, Lydecker's driver. The man's head was twisted 180 degrees and looking up at the ceiling despite his chest resting on the floor. The cause of that was, however, now chained to the wall like the animal he was.

Alec approached him and reached down for the K-bar strapped to his leg. He pulled the knife from its sheath with fluid grace. His limbs and joints felt loose and he was almost enjoying the taste of the blood in his mouth from being struck in the face by White's foot—that happened just before he caught the man off balance and was able to wrestle him into his restraints.

"This is a little embarrassing, I gotta say," White chuckled as he coughed and spit blood on the ground. "I gotta tell you, 494, I blame myself for this. I should have killed you when I caught you the first time. I should have listened to my father."

Alec approached the man and showed him the knife—not to scare him or threaten him, just to inform him of the work they would be doing shortly.

"Dear old Dad," Alec said. "What a guy."

"Yeah, I read all about you in his notes before I broke your dog friend," White said. "The old manyou're your wrong. Of course, he knew that. Took pity on you the last couple months, I guess. Seems to me that he never thought too much of you. You just didn't seem like the leading man type, not even in his pathetic little drama. I was surprised you even made the cut and were allowed to live past childhood."

"Oh, I can make lots of cuts," Alec said coldly while holding the K-bar menacingly in his grip. "Where would you like me to start? White meat or dark meat?"

"You won't do it," White shook his head. "I know you, 494. You're an opportunist, not a sadist. You're a killer, but you need a reason."

"You've given me enough reasons," he seethed as he approached the man in a deadly and deliberate fashion.

"You're not your psycho brother," White said confidently. "Yeah, I read all about him, too. Your twin, your clone, in fact, the freak with your face. He killed because all he could feel was fear. Are you like that? You lash out because you're a scaredy cat?"

His voice echoed off the tin walls and bounced off the concrete. The anemic light from the fluorescent bulbs high above cast the room into an eerie and sickly light.

"Oh, I'm not afraid of you," Alec said plainly and shook his head slowly.

"Well, I'm not afraid of you either," White smirked. "See, your file was pretty detailed. Manticore's green-eyed assassin. Turns out, if you don't fear it, you won't kill it. So, I gotta wonder, if you're not afraid of me, then in order to put me down, that would mean I must be threatening you. Am I threatening to you?"

"You threatened my family," he said darkly and simply while cocking his head to the side in a predatory pose. He remained loosed limbed as he stalked closer, like a jungle predator.

"So, you've gone native living on the streets, after all," White sneered. "From what I've learned, you never thought of the other X-5 kids as family. You always thought you were different from them—better than them. They were nothing to you. You never wanted a family—didn't even care you had a brother other than to be angry with him for escaping and landing your ass in Psy-Ops. You knew that other than 493, you had no real family. Those other kids, they were what? Schoolmates at best, most of them not even ones you liked very much. So what changed? What made you suddenly start feeling fraternal to your so-called siblings? So all that crap from 452 finally rubbing off on you? Must be proximity to her raging Mommy hormones messed with your programming."

Hearing him call her by the cold, numeric designation shot adrenaline into Alec's system. He instantly pounced forward with the agility and speed of a jaguar. Catching the man by surprise, he threw his forearm across White's throat and pinned the man there with a primal grunt and vicious snarl.

"She's not a number," Alec said, stabbing the knife quickly through White's palm and pulling it back as White grunted in pain. "Her name is Max."

"Max, it is then," White said, his chest heaving unevenly. After a moment, his tone changed to a more calculating one as he relaxed a bit. "Let me save you the trouble and help you back away from this. It's all just a fog in your brain. None of what you are feeling is real or necessary."

"Shut up," Alec warned through clenched teeth.

"I get that it was out of your control," White said quickly. "Her pheromones have brainwashed you. All that primal, dirty animal DNA makes you weak for that sort of stuff. I'm surprised you didn't know that. Didn't you ever pay attention at Manticore? Surely you must have noticed how Renfro set up that travesty of a breeding program. It was destined to fail, but she got one thing right. She kept the females separate from the males once they were impregnated. You should realize why, especially now. It's because, deep down, you're animals, and she knew she couldn't control the male's behavior; he might bond with his assigned partner or the child they produced. Couldn't even risk letting any other male get near her for fear that the souped body chemistry would do what exactly what has happened to you."

"What should concern you right now is what I am going to do to you if you don't tell me who Renfro works for," Alec growled.

"Not concerned where Max is?" he gasped.

"She's here," he said. "Logan or Lydecker will have her by now. If they've killed the white-haired bitch, I can't cut the information out of her, so that's why you're still alive. So speak and I'll end this quickly for you."

He slid the knife slowly but deeply along the man's side several times, filleting several of his ribs, exposing the bones. Blood began to slowly seep, for they were surgically strategic and not lethal cuts (not yet), through White's shirt. He drew a ragged breath as his voice began to quaver.

"Giving in to your wild side, huh?" White chuckled. "How does that feel? Losing control, letting those parts of you that make you a freak take over what little humanity you have? See, this is why you all have to die. Those little specks of animal DNA you carry make you extra dangerous. You've also got human reasoning and strategic thinking. Renfro knew the urge to protect and attack anything that comes near a male's offspring could be devastating. You're proving her right, kid. Oh, you don't know how happy you would be making her right now! Hell, you don't even realize it, but you've been given the ultimate roofie. Your knocked up little friend's body put the 'protect me' whammy on you, but it's not really your job, 494. Is that what you've been reduced to? Is this really your purpose? That your mission?"

"Who does Renfro work for?" Alec demanded again as he leaned harder into him, placing the knife at the top of his collar bone, preparing to thrust it through so he could see the impalement. "Tell me. Now."

"I gotta say, I'm surprised the chemicals still have your system all haywire like this," White gasped, his coloring going white and green. "They weren't experimenting with breeding when my father was with the program. Didn't need to, of course, because they still the lab to cook up you freaks. You really do need to thank 452 for all this. Don't worry about it. This will wear off soon enough, and you'll go back to being the same selfish, cold, spectacular loner they cooked you up in the Manticore microwave to be in no time."

Alec shook his head and quickly backhanded White, shattering his nose and sending blood cascading to the floor as the man choked on it briefly.

"You have five seconds to tell me where before I really start carving," Alec said. "I'll be precise and control the rate of the bleeding so you'll linger, fully conscious, in agony, as I decide what part of you to remove next. If you read our files, maybe you saw that I was very good at interrogation. Always had top marks."

Sweat began to drip from White's brow. It cascaded down his cheeks and dropped off his chin, racing with the blood dripping from his wounds.

"So, during that time on the in your toxic hellhole you developed a crush on that naughty little kitty, huh?" White said, straining to breath under the pressure on his chest and throat. "I don't go for that kinky interspecies perversion as a rule, but I guess can understand the attraction on the surface in normal circumstances. She sure was a hot little pussy cat when I first saw her. Not so much now; maybe the human part of your brain will see that, too, once your system clears of her pheromones. At the very least, you gotta agree she's not worth all this trouble to you. Man, she chose an ordinary human as her mate, and she's squeeze out his mutant any day now, if she lives. You simple minded mongrel, that alone is a sign you need to walk away."

"You'll never walk again when I'm done with you," Alec said, sliding the knife along the edge of White's knee, severing muscles, tendons and ligaments.

"Okay, okay, you've got a killer crush on her," White rasped, sweat pouring off his face. "I get it. You have a hard on for you own kind—fine with me. Make you a deal: You step back right now, and I'll see what I can do about giving her back to you."

Alec did not move. He did not press forward but he also did not lower the knife. White took a steadying breath as he saw his words registering.

"That's right," he continued. "Be smart about this and listen to me. You let me go, and I'll give her back. I can get her away from the conclave. I can. They don't need her anymore. The baby she's carrying is more important; that's what they want. It'll have her DNA and won't be half the trouble she's been. We'll keep her critter and let 452 go."

White groaned as a sudden, sharp pain bit into his chest. He heard and felt three of his ribs break as Alec buried his fist into the man's side.

"No," Alec said. "No deal. You keep no one."

White chuckled deliriously until he saw Alec's pupils contract and felt the added pressure across his neck. His words were causal and spoken without any hint of distress. It was only the murderous look in his unwavering and unblinking eyes that told White that he was deeply in trouble. His mind frantically analyzed the situation. He exhaled slowly as the realization dawned on him.

"Oh, so that's it," he said. "It's not Cale's, is it? Max's baby? It's yours. It's not a mongrel; it's a pure-blooded freak."

Alec didn't know for certain whether it was true. He knew he wanted it to be true, but wanting and knowing were vastly different territories. The child was Max's and that was enough. As confused and sad as she had been in the last months, he knew she loved the child. She feared for it, felt guilty for the life she was afraid it might have, and was uncertain she could care for it the way it deserved, but she loved it all the same. Whether it was his or Logan's did not seem to matter as much to her as the baby's health and welfare. For that reason alone, its survival (like that of its mother) was Alec's only mission.

"Who does Renfro work for?" Alec asked in a cold tone as he pressed the knife tip into the man's throat.

"I would have never guessed," White slured. "I mean, you and 452? That is a surprise. I thought she was a climber, trying to crawl out of the gutter by hooking up with a real man, but all the while she was also catting around the barn with the rest of the animals after all. That's funny. Your beloved little Maxie really is just a slutty little kitty after all, isn't she?"

The screams emanating from the room filled the factory. Logan looked up from his search of Renfro's corpse. He was sifting through her pockets in search of the keys that would free Max from her handcuffs. Max was quiet, panting and trying to remain calm. Her head and her back and pretty much all of her hurt after being knocked unconscious and thrown into the room where she was currently chained to the wall.

Logan's hands were clumsy with adrenaline and nerves as he stripped the key from the dead woman's jacket. He shook has he fitted into the cuffs and released Max's hands. She dropped her arms gratefully but with a wince around his shoulders as he freed her.

"We're gonna get you out of here," he promised as he helped her to her feet.

They heard feet slapping on the concrete outside. Logan lifted his gun, his hand shaking as he did so, and pointed it toward the door, but he dropped it instantly.

"Alec wasn't serious when he left me off the list of people not to shoot," Lydecker said, holding up his hand to Logan.

"Alec?" Max repeated.

"Yeah, he's here," Lydecker said. "He… finishing. Can you walk?"

She nodded slowly and put her foot hesitantly forward. Lydecker nodded and said he would bring the car around to the door, but that they should hurry. He didn't say why, but no one asked for any further explanation. Logan and Max shuffled slowly toward the hallway and were greeted by Alec, some blood spattered on his shirt but from his demeanor, none of it appeared to be his. He rushed quickly to Max, placing a steady and warm hand on her cheek.

"Are you okay?" he asked, searching her face intently for signs of distress or injury other than the superficial marks he could see.

"White is…?" Logan asked hesitantly, surveying the blood Alec was wiping from his face.

"Not going to bother anyone anymore," he said and peered into the room where Max had been held and Renfro's body lay still and forgotten. "Neither is his employer, I take it?"

Logan looked sickened but shook his head. Alec murmured something about giving Deck some hunting of his own to do, but did not elaborate. Instead, he placed himself on Max's other side, and wrapped his arm around her as her body shook with pain.

"How badly are you hurt?" Logan asked in a desperate tone.

"The baby," she said through clenched teeth.

"It's going to be okay," Logan said, exchanging an urgent look with Alec. "We'll call Sam. He's standing by. He'll check you out and make sure both of you are okay."

"Hurry," she gasped sharply. "The baby's coming."

"What?" Logan gaped.

"Now?" Alec blurted. He quickly elbowed Logan out of the way and barked an order at him as he scooped Max up into his arms. "I've got her. Get the door!"

Logan nodded and sprinted down the hall to the heavy door at the end and held it for them until they could exit. He did the same with the van as Lydecker arrived in screeching wheels.

"You came back," Max said breathlessly, holding on tight around his neck, as Alec carried her to the vehicle.

"I told you I was unreliable," Alec quipped hoping his voice did not reveal his fear. "I said I was leaving forever yet here I am. You just can't trust a guy like me, can you?"

Max's arms tensed as her muscles locked. She gripped Alec tightly as she looked at him with a sigh of relief caught in her throat.

"You helped Logan find me," she said in a strangled tone.

"Yeah, turns out he and I make a great scavenger hunt team," Alec said, sliding her quickly yet gently into the vehicle. "We're talking about turning pro. Maybe they'll put us on TV."

She choked out a small laugh as he body shuddered through the pain of the contraction. Her face pulsed a deep shade of red and perspiration beaded at her hairline. Alec maneuvered her carefully into the back seat and climbed in beside her to hold her as Logan slammed the door and jumped into the front just as Lydecker gunned the engine.

"Hang on, Max," Logan said over his shoulder as he pushed the accelerator to the floor.

The car tore down the empty freeway, topping 100 miles per hour. For a drive that took much longer on arrival, the departure appeared to be over in half the time. They arrived in Seattle and tore through the empty streets, taking corners on two tires. Alec cradled Max in the back squeezing her hand and speaking softly to her as he pressed his cheek against her temple.

"They wanted my baby," she winced as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I know," he said. "It's over. You're safe. It's gonna be okay, Max. It's all okay now."

**# # # #**

Alec carried Max into Carr's clinic and brought her to the room where he was prepping for her arrival. Alec looked up in surprise and worry to see Sandeman waiting for them. After gently releasing Max onto the table, he yanked Carr aside, gave a terse order, then charged at Sandeman.

"Out!" he said throwing his hand wildly at the door. "Your psycho son was going to carve her up. You can get the fu…"

"Father?" Joshua called from the doorway, beckoning him calmly. "Please."

Sandeman nodded and walked away. Alec breathed hard through his nose, willing his heart, which had not stopped racing since he grappled with White, to slow down. It was making him dizzy and feel a bit like he was floating. It was Max's pained gasp that dragged him back to his sense. He turned around and went to her side.

Outside the room, Carr finished scrubbing his hands in the sink and snapped on his gloves. Considering the grim and blood on everyone else in the delivery room, it seemed like a pointless gesture, but he liked to observe the formalities. He looked at Logan and took a breath before speaking to him quietly.

"Logan, when we go in there, I think you should stay back," Carr said awkwardly.

"Sam, that's my…. Could be my child," he said. "Why do I have to stay back?"

"Because Max could hurt you," Carr replied. "Logan, she's strong enough to break bones on a regular day. The pain and adrenaline of child birth could make that lethal. I'm not saying you can't be in the room, just keep your distance for your own safety, okay?"

"He's staying?" Logan asked, seeing Alec by her side offering some comfort. "You going make him stand back?"

"Not my call," Carr remarked. "She can't hurt him, not like she could hurt you. And, let's be honest…."

"The baby could be his," Logan nodded sorrowfully. "Yeah. I know."

Carr offered him a consoling look.

"Just keep it calm in there and relax," he said. "She might be a super woman, but she's having a baby. She doesn't need any extra stress or drama, okay?"

"I hope you going to tell him that, too," Logan sighed as he turned to enter the room.

"Actually," Carr offered wistfully, "Alec's the one who reminded me."

**# # # #**

Max panted and grimaced as the contractions wracked her body. She gripped Alec's hand tightly and tried to catch her breath. She looked at him with her one un-blackened eye and shook her head at his contemplative expression.

"What?" she asked.

"I think I'm changing my mind on which of us is tougher," Alec said lightly.

"Yeah?" she said red-faced as she panted. "Just figuring that out?"

"I'm a slow learner on some things," he replied with an easy shrug as he dabbed her face with a damp cloth.

Max's body shook and she groaned and gasped painfully. Her face twisted into a mask of agony.

"How are you doing?" Alec asked, trying to keep his voice even as he watched her writhe in pain.

"I'm in pain, you moron," she whined through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, I can see that," he replied as he stroked her cheek gently. "I just meant can you handle it, but never mind. You'd say you can regardless so, I'll just believe you… for now. Hang in there, Max. You'll get through this."

She caught her breath as the pain abated for a moment. She could see Carr and Logan talking near the doorway. She offered Alec a scared expression.

"Don't leave," she said in a tight and shaking voice.

"I'm right here, Maxie," he assured her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I mean, even if… after…," she huffed.

"You want me to stay?" he asked.

Max nodded quickly as a tear slipped out of her eye and mingled with the sweat glistening on her face.

"Then I'm staying," Alec assured her. "Just know that if you start yelling and telling me to get out, I'm going to remind you that you asked me to stay."

Max smiled weakly then and grit her teeth as another powerful contraction shook her body.

"The baby's Logan's," she wept through a whisper.

"You don't know that," Alec said, but he could feel the lump in his throat that told him he feared she was right.

"Makes the most sense," she said. "Don't be mad if she is. Please. Just don't… leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, Max," he said. "After this is done, I'll… be wherever you need me."

"Promise," she gasped.

"After everything, you still don't trust me?" he grinned while brushing the drops of sweat from her forehead.

"You left the other day," she recalled as she winced again with the contraction. "You ran away."

"I didn't get far," he replied then sighed apologetically. "I'm sorry about that, Max. I… thought it was the right thing to do."

"I know, but you were wrong," she told him. "Don't be wrong like that again."

"Okay," he nodded. "I swear to you on… my own very precious neck that I won't leave even if… anything. Alright?"

Max relaxed a bit and offered him a tired smile.

"Why are you never this agreeable and supportive normally?" she said breathing hard.

"Probably because in normal circumstances, I have the luxury of being an egotistical, selfish, opportunistic jackass," he shrugged. She glared at him. "Hey, I'm answering truthfully. I can be a jerk, but don't generally lie to you just because I can. I've omitted the truth in the past, but I don't usually outright lie."

She smiled, mostly with her undamaged eye, as she breathed through another contraction.

"So once this baby is born, you'll go back to being… you?" she wondered.

"Let's not worry about me right now," he said as she howled in pain and dug her fingers deeply into his hand. He then called over his shoulder. "Hey, doc! Are you ready? Because the lack of circulation in my hand tells me she is."

"No," Max shook her head. "I'm not ready for this, Alec."

"You don't have a choice, Max," he said.

"I know," she snarled as she wept. "I'm sorry. Everything is such a mess; I'm… a mess and this is… This hurts, and I'm scared."

Alec leaned forward and briefly kissed her forehead.

"I know you are, but you can do this," he said then whispered in her ear. "You're the bravest person I know. You can do anything. Remember that."

The doctor arrived with Logan in tow. Logan met Max's eye and received a weak but awkward smile from her. He smiled back supportively and kept his eyes from crossing over to Alec. Logan was appreciative that Alec had helped in finding Max, but he was jealous of Alec. Max was supposed to be keeping them both at arm's length until she had made her decision. She claimed she hadn't done that yet, but Alec appeared to have a free pass to break the rules; however, Logan reminded himself this was not the place or the time to have that discussion… or challenge Alec to a duel.

"Alright," Carr said as he finished examining Max. "Okay, well, it should come as no surprise that you're about to have a baby. You ready?"

"No," she shook her head quickly.

"You're going to be fine, Max," Carr assured her.

Whether what followed was 10 minutes or an hour, she did not know. She knew it was more pain that she ever felt before and drained more energy from her than any other activity ever had—including being electrocuted by a cattle prod. When she thought about it later, the cattle prod hurt less, too. However, none of that really mattered and faded into a distant memory as soon as she heard the wail of her baby's first breath.

"Congratulations," Carr said as the infant began to howl.

"Is she okay?" Max gasped, straining to sit up and see the child. "Does she have a barcode?"

"Uh, no barcode, but she is a he," Carr reported, handing the sticky, swaddled child to her. "It's a boy, Max. You have a son."

"A son?" she repeated, quickly unwrapping the blanket to see for herself. She sniffled and chuckled tiredly as she looked at him. "You're a boy."

Alec looked carefully at the child's face. The lack of a barcode did not mean anything. Some transgenic children, even those with both transgenic parents, were born without them… although not all. He focused on the child. A knot formed in Alec's chest as he recognized some of the features. The shape of the nose and the set of the eyes. He looked from the child to Max as his hands shook for a moment with what he recognized was fear. He looked next to Logan, who was also surveying the child's face. The cyber journalist looked at Max and whispered the word "congratulations" before fixing his stare on Alec.

**# # # #**

Alec heard buzzing in his ears as Sandeman pulled he needle from his bicep. The final injection was supposed to calm his over active heart. The stitches in his shoulder from the removal of the bullet were bandaged now as well. The scientist regarded him with a thoughtful look.

"I cannot apologize enough," he said. "The answer was so simple. So obvious. It eluded me."

"Who knew nearly getting killed was a solution," Alec quipped.

"I had synthetic adrenaline in the lab," Sandeman said. "A single dose could have saved you several painful treatments."

"I'm just glad I get my superpowers back," Alec said, hopping off the table. "I didn't want to turn in my letter or my cape."

Sandeman chuckled. He looked again at the test results, rudimentary though they were, the answer was clear. Alec's body temperature was up again. His white cell and red cell counts were increasing rapidly. His enzymes, the ones that signaled the enhanced strength and agility of his muscles, were on the rise. The healing in his wounded arm was evidence already. The sudden jolt of adrenaline his body produced during his brief battle with White had rebooted his DNA and got the pistons firing again.

"I will need to see you again in the near future to verify you are maintaining," Sandeman said as Alec drifted toward the door.

**# # # #**

Max held her child, the boy was currently sleep, and gazed down at him with a touch of fear but a great deal more wonder. Logan sat beside her bed, also looking at the child with a vacant expression that matched the fatigue filling his brain.

"I never meant to hurt you with any of this," Max said to Logan.

"I know you didn't," Logan replied then swallowed hard as his voice grew shaky. "You love Alec don't you?"

"I loved you, too," she said.

"I know, but that's not what I asked," Logan continued. "Do you love him?"

Max rested her head back on the pillow for a moment and felt her throat get dry and tight. She inhaled slowly then nodded as she shifted her eyes to meet Logan's.

"I didn't want to; I never meant for it to happen," she said. "I didn't go looking for it. You were all I wanted and then… Things started to change. I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. I fell in love with him. I don't know what happened."

"Life," Logan said simply. "That's how it usually works. You're busy making other plans and… life takes over."

"I'm sorry," she sniffled.

"This is the part where he," Logan began and nodded toward the hallway where Alec stood talking to Carr, "would offer up a tired movie line about how love means never having to say you're sorry. I never understood that line until now."

"I loved you, too, but…," she shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. "With Alec, it's different."

"Hey, no don't; no tears," Logan said, brushing one off her cheek with his thumb. "Not today. Remember, today is a good day, a happy day. You got to finally meet this little guy."

He gently stroked the sleeping child's cheek with the back of his finger. The child wiggled in her arms. She kissed the top of his head and adjusted his position in hear arms as he settled back into his peaceful sleep.

"He is beautiful, Max," Logan continued.

"He is," she smiled sadly at him. "He deserves a better life than this one."

"Better than what?" Logan asked. "Having the world's most beautiful and loving mom? Having a father who is willing and able protect him from anything that would try to harm him? That's really not such a bad life."

Max looked at him with questioning eyes.

"I saw the look on Alec's face; I heard what he told me about what we needed to go to get you safe," Logan replied. "Finding you, protecting you, was all that mattered; he didn't care if he got hurt or even if he got killed. He didn't even care if you chose me at the end. He had one focus: Find you and get you to safety. It was humbling, to say the least. I mean, I can get pretty obsessed, but he…. The words man on a mission do not do it justice."

"Careful," she sniffed. "You sound impressed."

He looked out to the hallway to where Alec stood watching but keeping his distance, but also keeping a watchful eye on the room.

"Satisfied," Logan said. "I don't have to like the guy to see that he loves you. He can protect you both in ways I can't; he understands you and your life better than I can."

"It was never a competition," she said.

"I know," Logan shrugged. "I mean, it was, but I know why I lost. It's all those things that make him… who he is rather than who I am."

"You're not exactly total opposites," she said. "You have more in common than either of you know or admit."

"Well, good looks and charm aren't unique gifts," Logan smiled. "I didn't think anyone could love you more than I do, but somehow, he does."

"I really did love you," she said.

"I know," Logan replied with a tight throat. "You just… you love him more."

He blinked hard several times and took a steady breath to keep from breaking down. It didn't feel manly or brave, despite the unbelievable pain in his heart telling him he shouldn't care about such things. He shook his head and forced a smile onto his lips.

"It's okay, well, it's not, but in time it will be," he said. "Besides, I gotta figure when this little guy here has some serious tantrums at age two, his dad will be able to withstand the kicking and flailing arms better than I would."

Max chuckled sorrowfully then kissed the top of the baby's head.

"Alec's not the same guy you first met," she said. "He's a better man than you know."

"I'm learning that," Logan nodded.

He bent down and kissed the top of her head briefly then walked to the doorway. He stood, facing Alec for a second then held out his hand. Alec looked at him questioningly then took the offered palm.

"Congratulations," Logan said. "Your son's a good looking kid."

"You're leaving?" Alec asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I should give the three of you some… family time. Besides, I got a report to work on about a lead on a dangerous cult that has infiltrated some high government posts and is manipulating congressional inquiries into focusing on federal funds for secret bio-weapons factories that don't exist. Oh, I'm also arranging for a car to get the three of you and Joshua out of the city. I've got a safe place near San Francisco. They're a little more accepting of outsiders there."

Logan nodded wearily then turned to head down the hall. Alec stopped him, placing his hand on his shoulder, prompted him to turn around.

"Thanks," he said. "I owe you."

"Just take care of them and we'll call it even," Logan replied. "But you know, if ever I'm in need of a family of superheroes, I might give you a call."

"You never give up the good fight, huh?" Alec observed with a rueful shake of his head.

"Not usually, but I know when I'm beaten," Logan said. "I appreciate you abstaining from making a remark about the better man winning here."

"That's because I'm not sure he did," Alec replied.

"Yeah, but I am," Logan sighed and clapped him on the arm as he turned to depart. "You should trust me on this one, Alec. After all, Eyes Only doesn't lie, and he is the only voice of truth left in this city."

**# # # #**

The light was dim in the small room. The child lay curled up in his mother's arms sleeping. Max was awake with Alec, sitting up beside her, one arm draped sheltering over her shoulders and the other resting protectively on his son's back. A look of unabashed awe on radiated from his face.

"Are you going to tell me what Logan said to you out there?" she asked quietly.

"What do you think, he challenged to me a duel?" he replied. "He just made me promise to behave and look after the both of you."

"He said that?"she asked.

"It's what he meant," Alec replied. "He didn't seem too worried."

"Are you?" she asked.

Alec paused and thought for a moment. The truth was yes. For someone who had done precious little worrying in his life, he found that in the last hour or so, he had begun to do little else other than worry. It was frankly exhausting. He was glad his transgenic abilities were returning or else he wasn't sure he could handle this whole parent gig.

"I was," Alec admitted. "When I saw this little guy and knew he was mine… I… got a little freaked. I started shaking even. Of course, that might have just been the last dregs of my adrenaline rush."

Max rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"How about now?" she asked, looking down at her son, amazed still at how much he resembled his father.

"I'm good, I guess," Alec shrugged. "Oh, you mean with the freaking. Well, I figure you'll just kick my ass if I even think about screwing up, so that should keep me in line."

Max chuckled softly as the infant squirmed and repositioned himself and sighed contentedly.

"He's a restless sleeper like you are," she noted.

"Well, he got kicked out of his pad earlier, then he winds up stuck in this crappy town surrounded by strangers," Alec observed with a smile at both of them. "He's had a hard day. Cut the kid some slack."

"We can't keep call our son '_him' _or_ 'the kid'_," she said as she held their child tighter and nestled herself closer to Alec. "I never thought up any boy names. I thought he'd be a girl."

"Take note of this, son," Alec whispered to the baby. "She never admits when she's wrong; this is the closest you will ever get to that."

"Alec," she said sternly, then softened he gaze as he grinned. "Any suggestions for a name?"

"More than once you've decreed that I'm not allowed to name anyone, remember?" he chuckled.

Max rested her head on his shoulder and yawned. Alec pulled up the blanket to cover her and the sleeping baby.

"He needs a name," she said sleepily. "Having a name is important, Alec."

"Agreed, but I didn't have one for 20 years or so," he said softly. "So, there's no need to rush or stress about this, Maxie. We've got plenty of time. "

_Alec_, she thought with a frustrated smile as she sighed.

"No, don't give me the Alec sigh," he counseled, softly kissing her forehead as her eyes slowly closed. "Worry about a name tomorrow. For now, just enjoy the moment and then get some rest. You just had a baby. Your job is done for today, alright? Mission accomplished."

-The End

**# # # #**

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**A/N:** Thank you so much for following along and offering up the reviews. I have appreciated all of your support and interest. I am now off to finish my second novel (due to the publishers later this fall—see my author profile for details on book #1 and follow up for the sequel). I hope you enjoyed reading The Mission as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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